


Alien Problems

by CrystalMoonlightI



Series: Huniepop: Problems Series - Celestial [1]
Category: HuniePop (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Culture, Alien Language, Alien Romance, Alien Sex, Alien Super Weapon, Alien Technology, Battle, Bounty Hunters, F/M, Friendship/Love, Huniepop, Hunters & Hunting, Kissing, Martial Arts, On the Run, Parasites, Predator/Prey, Psychotic Alter Ego, Romance, Science Fiction, alien torture, strong female lead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-08-22 15:45:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 49,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8291363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalMoonlightI/pseuds/CrystalMoonlightI
Summary: When a dangerous weapon is hidden on Earth and unwittingly protected by a clueless human named Markus Kane, Celeste is hired to recover the device and apprehend the earthling. When the beautiful alien bounty hunter and a grim realization confront him, Mister Kane decides to take a stand. Little does he know that Celeste enjoys the hunt. (An alternate storyline of the series.)





	1. Alien Problems (Rewind)

**Author's Note:**

> Did you enjoy reading about Mark in my other stories? Well... he's the male lead in this connecting tale. Read on as he struggles against an otherworldly enemy and uncovers a painful truth. The woman he loves is anything but who she seems, and a powerful alien bounty hunter known as 'Celeste' is closing in for the kill. Finally, caught in the middle of all this, is his best friend Mike.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! This project takes place in a hypothetical timeline of Relationship Problems.

The rain just wouldn't let up. Perhaps it was an omen - or perhaps a prelude of fate. The grains of sand spilled through the hourglass and the clock ticked onward.

_'Damn it all! Have I reached my end at last?'_

"I cannot best you - no matter how hard I try. Indeed, you drive me to the brink of madness, Celeste."

Mark collapsed on hand and knee, gasping for breath as his enemy, took bare footed steps across the wet, sandy ground.

"Markus Kane," she smiled, flipping yet another hand through the wet strands of her snowy white hair, "Your friends are still alive... for the moment at least. Your comrade Mike put up a most valiant fight... so much so that I find myself enamoured with him."

Kane's entire body throbbed the weight of the heartbeat ringing in his ears. Regardless, he stood again. A low growl slipped free - fists clenching tight as his limbs shuddered with sharpened rage, "What about Momo? You said she would remain unharmed. Do not say you intend to stab me in the back?"

"She is also alive, and if you wish for her to stay that way," the extra-terrestrial vixen stopped just short of her pray, eying him with her powerful orange orbs in the moon's light, "Then you had better comply with my demands..."

"What do you want?"

As Mark fought steadied his legs, the entire world continued to teeter on the edge a violent vortex.

_'Let me out, Markus. Your sanity hangs by a thread and yet you still resist me. Once I have control I'll pluck the heart from this bitch. I'll make her watch in her final moments before I crush her lifeblood beneath my boot. I'll destroy her.'  
_

"It would appear that you are fast running out of time, Mister Kane." Celeste folded her arms, waggling her finger.

"If we do not remove _it_ from your body by sunrise... the being will complete its meld with your brain and nervous system... and you will cease to exist as a single entity. I could use my surgical equipment to purge it from your bloodstream. Before I do, however, I require one last thing from you..."

"You want to fight me," Mark declared aloud. Of course, she did - she'd hunted him like a cat on the trail of a mouse. "Save me the foolish prattle... and let us be on with it."

Power - it coursed through the man's veins, filling his core with force most intense. His heartbeat thumped, and as the blood pulsed through every fibre of his mortal form, his eyes shone red as blood, "I'll make you pay for what you've done..."

The alien lady took a step back, lips curved into a smirk, "It would seem you are forcefully bending the strength of the creature to your whim - a near impossibility for a human. However... I have learned to expect nothing less from you..."

"This thing is," Mark coughed chunks of red as his senses surged in overdrive, "...destroying me. But I'll not back down. I'll never admit defeat... my most lethal adversary."

"Come," he beckoned her forth with a wave of the hand, standing tall in stance, "Let us finish this..."

"Very good," Celeste chuckled, her curvy form slinking in preparation for the dance of combat, "I have been looking forward to this... never before has a target given me the thrill of such chase..."

Time was almost up. Mark exhaled deeply, and in the final moments, allowed his mind to drift back to the very beginning.

"This is it... the final battle..."

* * *

_**Four weeks earlier  
** _

Some things never changed. The world always seemed to stay the same no matter how he tried, but then again, facing the truth never felt very appealing. Money made things easy, but having wealth was never enough to solve every problem. Markus Kane, twenty-four years of age, and for all intents and purposes, _seemingly_ in control of every aspect of his life.

With a small shake of the head, Markus looked away from his muscular reflection in the mirror. As always, his self-defence regimen at the gym was going well. "Another day in the endless spiral of one's existence. Momo, are you here?"

A bell softly jangled as if moving on que to those words. It was followed by the gentle sound of pattering feet across the darkened carpet. "Welcome home, master! I hope you had a great day."

Markus spun on his feet to greet the smiling cat-like lady. Honestly, trying to define Momo was a task that he found to be somewhat difficult. Just how exactly could he define Momo, exactly? Regardless of the confusion, however, he still found her to be a most attractive creature. Her daytime kimono made her look so cute in his opinion.

"Today has been enjoyable, thank you." Mark turned back to examine his finer features in the reflection of the mirror for a second time. His deep blue eyes were more than a little droopy from an apparent lack of sleep, while his rugged and manly features remained in compliment to his slickly gelled brown hair.

It had been a long day, but regardless, there was still one more thing to do. "Momo," Markus spoke kindly as he turned to his lady friend.

Momo felt her heart flutter. Her ears twitched expectantly at the mention of her name, and she gave a cheerful smile. "Yes, meow? Can Momo help you with something?"

Markus reached for a cigarette from the pocket of his pants before giving a small smile to her cheerfulness. No matter the time of day, Momo always seemed to wander around the apartment happily. "You see," he began followed by a sleepy little yawn; "The band I manage will be playing this weekend. I was going to ask you if would like to come with me. They need all the moral support they can get."

Finished, he reached across to the lighter that sat upon his favorite armchair and casually lit up a smoke.

For the slightest moment, Momo felt a little blip of confusion. "You use such big words, master… but of course!" she finished with a beaming smile. "Momo would love to spend more time with you!"

"I'm glad," Markus continued after taking a little drag of nicotine into his lungs. After a sharp exhale he patted Momo upon the head in a gentle fashion. "I find myself more at ease when I have you beside me. I can't explain it, but having you with me brings me a sense of… contentedness."

"Master!" Momo felt her levels of annoyance rising. She pouted, being blissfully aware of her adorable showing of frustration. "You're using big words again! Momo doesn't understand…."

Mark chuckled warmly as be pattered the Neko a second time. Having her around, it made him feel like an older brother. "It just means I feel happy when you're here to keep me company."

"Meow!" Momo gave a happy squeal and threw her arms around her master in a playfully sweet showing of affection. "Thank you! Thank you thank you! Momo feels the same way when you come home from work."

"I'm glad." Mark made his way across the tidy little expanse of the living room. Everything was cleaned, dusted, and in its place without fail. Not a chair was out of place, not a single piece of furniture out of line. With an exhausted sigh, the gentleman of muscular build slumped against one of the kitchenette chairs.

With a satisfied sigh he moved to put out his cigarette in the chunky onyx ashtray that sat upon the polished kitchen counter. His thoughts kept on wandering back to the band today, "Their new song is certainly something."

* * *

Band practice, a time in which his friends threw all of the energy they had into their passionate art of making music. Mark didn't just manage the trio because they needed somebody to keep track of the money. No, it was far more than that. He managed the band out of friendship.

"Neil and Steve with their exceptional skills as guitarists, and Mike with his sharp voice... The ladies love them... and more people around Glenberry want them to play…. Just the thought of them becoming successful makes me very happy for them."

The sound of Momo scampering across the carpet snapped Markus away from his musings. Turning to face his kitty roommate, he gave a faint smile before leaning forward in his chair. "I do envy you Momo. You're always so happy. I have to admit… I've done well for myself since I graduated, but I sometimes feel as though I'm running away from my true feelings."

The difference in tone the master displayed was cause enough for Momo to tilt her head to the side. More than anything she hated to see Master Mark sad.

"….Cheer up, silly!" She gave the warmest of grins and energetically slinked her way toward Markus. Finally closing in upon him, she threw her slender arms around his middle in an affectionate embrace. "You saved my life. I think you're a very special guy, because you're well… you're you! You could have let Momo go cold and hungry, but instead, you brought me home! You bought me fishies and that made me so happy."

The feeling of such closeness made Mark feel a flicker of warmth within his usually distant heart. "If I told you the truth about myself, I worry that you would see me differently, Momo."

"Of course not, Meow!" Momo snuggled her head softly against the black fabric of Mark's shirt. Nestling so close to him like this, it was comforting. Feeling content with her place at his side like this, she purred softly in a most abundantly feline manner. "I could never hate you after all you've done for me. I would be a sad kitty if you hadn't found me!"

The recognition for such a small act of kindness gave birth to a tiny ember of compassion. Markus could feel it burning in the core of his being as he looked upon Momo's smiling face. "Okay… then I'll be honest with you. Momo… would you think I'm a bad person if I told you that I'm jealous of my friends?"

"But you have nothing to be jealous about, master." Hearing such a thing from her savior felt more than a little confusing. Momo pulled back from the embrace she shared. Playfully, she pressed her finger upon Mark's nose for a second. "You have this nice apartment. You manage a band that makes really cool music, and you even have your fun job at the game store! Plus, you have Momo! You should feel proud!"

Mark sighed and shook his head a little. "My family are constantly hung up on the concepts of honor and tradition. My mother and father... they expect so much of me, and you know what makes it worse? I constantly try to distance myself from all of that. All I wanted was the freedom to choose my own life."

It was the truth of his feelings. For the longest time Markus had felt as though his life was been decided for him. "I remember the look on dad's face when I told him I was going to attend a regular community college and study business instead of training to become a doctor like he did…. He was ashamed and angry beyond words."

"But that doesn't mean you should feel jealous of your friends, master." Momo waggled her finger with a downturned expression. "Even if your daddy isn't happy with you, Momo still cares about you…."

Those words held the searing intensity of a blade straight to the heart. Markus slowly felt his usually hardened shell beginning to crack under the weight of all that he felt. "My friends are musicians… and then there's Kyanna. She has a wonderful son and lots of friends. Meanwhile, I'm running from the expectations of my family… never quite escaping the shadow they cast. My father barely spoke a word to me at our last family dinner."

As everything usually was, the dinner was a formal affair. Just thinking back to it made his skin crawl a little. Having to sit down for a meal in a full suit and tie. The hardest part was having to talk about recent happenings with father.

Mark's expression was twisting with anger, his fists clenching, "He told me I shouldn't be managing a band. He called my friends deadbeats. You know what's worse? He had the nerve to say I'd WASTED my education and that I should go to medical school while I have the chance! Who the hell does that two-faced old cretin think he is?!"

"STOP IT! MEOW!" Momo hissed violently, her tail standing bolt upright as she did so. With an angry backhand swipe of the paw, she struck out. In her heart she could not bare hearing master talk about himself like this.

Markus placed a hand of his own upon the stinging handprint that warmed the left side of his face. "You hit me…. Momo…. Why did yo-"

A tiny little sob wretched free from Momo's delicate lips as she threw her arms around her blue-eyed prince. Her own eyes felt damp, and slowly but surely, little tears of crystal leaked down the side of her pale cheeks. "Because Momo loves you, master! My place is here with you now! Hearing you talk so meanly about yourself makes me feel all horrible inside..."

Markus could only bring himself to close his eyes in defeat as he held the slender Neko in his strong and protective embrace. Love was certainly an emotion he had not felt since leaving home and starting to make his own story in the world. Then again, even that was something very bittersweet. His parents and especially his grandparents didn't really treat him the same since he studied his business diploma. Ever since graduation they had become much more distant.

"I'm sorry, Momo…. I shouldn't have lost my cool like that. It's just… I get so frustrated. Do you really mean it though? You're not just trying to cheer me up, are you?"

"Of course not," Momo chimed softly as she gently rubbed her head against Markus' chest while purring in like a kitten. "You always treat me so nicely. You get me food when I'm hungry, you keep me company every night when you come home, and you even let me sleep in your nice warm bed while you sleep on the couch! Momo couldn't ask for anymore from you, master! I want to stay here with you more than anything in the world."

Such compliments helped Mark feel a little more upbeat in his time of need. It was the warmth his heart needed when it was in danger of becoming cold. Smiling at last, he softly petted Momo behind the ears.

She mewed softly in response. Pets, she loved being petted like this. Momo's ears twitched softly in response to such affection. "Master… Momo was wondering something. Would kissing me make you feel any better?"

The sudden acceleration Mark felt in his heartbeat was about one of the only responses his body could muster in. The organ in his chest thumped loudly. Not to mention his cheeks felt as though they were heating slightly. It was not just because of the slap either. Since her arrival at his home Markus had seen Momo in more of a sisterly light most of the time. His body stiffened, and for the moment, he chose to release Momo from their shared embrace.

"I don't want anything to ruin the friendship we have," he began quietly. A situation such as this was something that Mark was not well versed in. "It wouldn't be right if we did and then… things became difficult."

"Don't be shy, master." Momo let out a soft little chuckle and softly sat herself upon the kitchen counter. "Momo just wants to show you how much she cares. I hate seeing you look so sad..."

It was impossible to resist such a gentle assault on the emotions from such a loving assailant. Mark knew it all too well. There had been times when his lonely heart had felt faint flickers of desire for the energetic neko girl that he had let into his life. "Perhaps I should just embrace how I feel after all..."

"Mew?" Momo tilted her head, "Did you say something, master?"

However, the gentleman quickly raised his hands in defence, "No, No. I didn't say anything at all..."

"Ohhh... okay," The cat girl giggled playfully and leaned a little closer to gaze into Mark's deep oceanic eyes, "Cats have very good hearing... I hope you know that..."

A sudden and sharp thump of the heart caused Markus to sigh. "You heard me, didn't you?"

"Of course I did!" Momo beamed with energy. "You don't need to be scared! Momo would never hurt you, mas-"

"Just call me Mark, okay? You need not be so formal. I had enough of that at home... having to call my father 'Sir' and all.'" Home life was so strict and it was something he detested. The first world problems of the upper-middle class the the things he hoped to leave behind when he moved to Glenberry with his friends from the band.

"Okay... Mark," Momo mewed sheepishly as if she was saying a naughty word. "Would you like to kiss Momo?" she repeated her question again, this time in a slightly more shy tone of voice. Her cheeks were turning scarlett. "Momo... has wanted to kiss you for a while now..."

Markus looked onward as the lady feline nervously hid her face away. Her confession made him feel more at ease. In fact, hearing that she felt the same way, it was enough to relax his original fears.

"Alright." Finally conceding, Mark softly took Momo into his embrace. Bringing his hands upon her shoulders, he smiled softly and leaned in. "Close your eyes, please…. I've not kissed a lot of women. I don't want this to be a bad experience for you…."

Momo squealed softly in hapiness. "Momo couldn't possibly feel bad about this... especially since it's you kissing me, Mark..."

Eyes shut, she leaned ever closer to her master. She trusted him to be kind and gentle. Her long tail slowly swished from side to side as she waited patiently. "Meow."

With each moment that slid by the duo found themselves edging ever closer, centimetre by centimetre. Finally, their lips met in the middle with a moist touch and locked together as if connected by a force of magic. The room fell silent, save for the intimate sound of lips slowly smacking together in a loving melee of romance. Lost in the moment, Markus felt his grip upon Momo's shoulders tighten the slightest bit more. Meanwhile, the cat girl mewed happily in response to such tenderness.

Time stood still for the entirety of the exchange, or it seemed to for the pair as they remained locked in such heartfelt moment. Slowly but surely, Markus and Momo inched apart, and gazed lovingly into each other's eyes.

The kitty smiled first as her little heart fluttered within the confines of her chest. "….That was my first time kissing somebody," came her shy admission with a crimson blush. "I love you so much!"

The feeling of fulfilment Markus felt from a single gesture of love was a sensation most unfamiliar to his romantically dulled senses. However, there was no denying that at this moment in time, he felt extremely special indeed. "I love you also, Momo."

**To be continued...**


	2. First Contact

The beach and a hooded stranger. The sun had set for the evening - and something felt seriously wrong here. Senses ablaze in full alert, Markus Kane stood amidst a sea of tension and let his breathing steady.

"Can I help you with something? You look as though you're lost."

"Markus Johnathan Kane?"

A female voice – one of confidence and smooth assertiveness, but one thing remained to be answered amidst this sea of questions that swam around within the gentleman's head.

"How in the world do you know my name?"

A gentle tug brought down the veil of concealment. A woman, skin of blue and bright white hair. Not to mention horns! Were those really horns? A second yank brought the robe-like shroud sailing away in the evening breeze.

Her curvaceous body sang a beautiful prayer of accompaniment to the skin-tight suit that clung around such a mysterious form. However – When she moved forward, the man found himself taking a cautious step back – his eyes narrowing behind the rims of his sunglasses in caution.

Between her long aquatic hued fingers, she clutched a foreign device of bright beeping buttons – it's bizarre and inhuman shape acting as the barer of a low pitched humming noise. Mark held fast as the mysterious and unnatural woman held the contraption upward and slid one of her digits across the red switches at the back.

A burning eruption of light pierced Mark's eyes for a second as his legs reeled backward in alarm, "My eyes… can't see."

"Yes – it would seem your biological scan confirms my suspicions. You are indeed Markus Kane – the man I've been trying to pinpoint for quite some time."

His faculties returning, the man of deepest ocean eyes leapt back in automatic defence. It was as if by reflex, something most powerful buried in his subconscious flared, "I demand to know who you are. Do you work for my father? On the other hand, is it perhaps somebody from the office of Congressman Burns? Whoever it is I can assure you… I have little to no contact with my father as of recent years."

"My name is Celeste Luvendass – human." Reaching behind her back, she produced a high-tech badge with a bright holographic insignia and smiled dryly, "I am a freelance bounty hunter who is currently under the employment of the Galactic Office of Military Affairs. You can rest assured in the knowledge that the earthling business conglomerate of your family does not interest me in the slightest."

"Galactic?" None of this made sense. No – In fact, it was quite the opposite of anything logically sensible. "So I assume that means you're not from this planet?"

"You," the foreign lady took a gradual and seemingly careful step through the sand and slid her badge away, "I am here to inform you of your rights. As a citizen of Earth, the Universal Treaty of Interstellar Nations does not protect you. Therefore, I am within my right to declare you under arrest Markus Kane – for the harbouring of a dangerous fugitive element of the Zerellian Resistance. You will stand trial before a galactic court who will decide your fate."

"Arrest? I highly doubt you have the correct person here… and even if you do…." A surge of adrenaline pulsed through Mark's veins as he sensed the imminent calling of battle, "Don't think I'll come quietly unless you present me with just cause."

"Then allow me to slake the curiosities that you have – human." Celeste opened out her palm and Markus watched tensely – a brief whistle of intrigue being his response as a holographic orb flashed to life in front of the alien woman.

It was only then – when Markus saw a familiar face etched to the side of the news bulletin projected from the sphere that he felt his confusion take hold in rampant freedom. Phrases such as 'Dangerous Weapon' and 'Sleeping Assassins' only served to make it so much worse.

"Momo…. It can't be possible…. The fugitive that you speak of cannot be the same girl…."

"Regardless of how innocent she may look on the surface… it is indeed true, Mister Kane. The creature you refer to as 'Momo' is actually a member of a genetically manufactured race of beings known as the 'Nekorian'… or 'Nekos' for short. They are created for the sole purpose of stealth assassinations and political sabotage… weapons engineered by a fringe movement against the Galactic Council."

' _Master Mark… you're home! Momo is so happy to see you!'_

"I refuse to believe such convoluted bullshit. Neither will I simply hand Momo over to you," Markus barked in meltdown – his voice laced with an aggression far detached from his usually stoic nature, "What do you intend to do with the poor girl?"

Celeste flipped back her hair – folding her arms as her expression dropped into stony realism, "Unit M Twenty-Three codename Momo… will be liquidated in accordance with the instructions handed to me by my paymasters. The Nekorian creatures are essentially sleeping giants – no memories of their training of their purpose, but will become ruthless instruments of death if awakened by a Control Phrase."

"Needless to say," The extra-terrestrial being pulled a device shaped peculiarly like a weapon from the metallic holster at her hip, "She cannot be allowed to live – and if you do not comply with my instructions… I am authorized to use force."

' _Thank you for taking such good care of me…. You make Momo feel so special!'_

"So be it," Markus reached down with outstretched fingers – clutching hold and tossing his long black coat to the wind. There he stood tall amidst a gust of powerful wind with fists held high, "Use force, but I wish you luck. Human or no… I am quite confident in my abilities."

"It seems the information in your file was correct," replied Celeste as she anchored her feet into the course golden grains and slid her fingers around the trigger of her mysterious firearm, "You are trained in human self-defence techniques."

A deep breath to steady himself – his centre of gravity acting as a conduit for the energy to flow freely through every inch of his body. Mark was ready, and there was no way in the world he was going to hand over Momo without a fight.

It was time. He took off on a pair of agile legs, the side of his foot springing outward with the weight of a cannon ball, "Enough fooling around."

"My weapon," Celeste cried out as the pistol-like armament sailed from her grip. It twirled through the air like a baton on the day of a cheer rally before sinking into the water with a resounding 'splash'.

"Now we can fight with a hint of honor – hand to hand," Mark exhaled with a determined smile across his lips as he slid back, "Be warned however… I will show you no mercy if you wish to harm one of the dearest people in my life."

"He is exceedingly fast… faster than his observation documents indicated," The gorgeous bounty hunter of blue winced – it seemed as though Mark had her on the defensive in light of an aggressive combination of kicks. With arms held high, she guarded.

Yet it didn't appear to be over – not yet. Mister Kane rasped in astonished fury as his feet slid across the sand – the aftermath of a powerful palm-strike from the alien known as Celeste. A cough spewed forth from his shaken lungs as he stood again in preparation to retaliate.

"You have both power and precision," he complimented as his feet anchored firmly into the sand below, "It seems as though I should stop taking you lightly and assert myself for a change."

Kane barrelled forward in a blur. Locked on – target in sights, he collided with her body mercilessly. Celeste tumbled back, and without a shred of forgiveness Markus kept on her with sailing fists of great accuracy. Knuckles collided with her stomach. One after the other they struck home hard. The beast was free to rampage – and with a genuine cause behind him the man of spiked chocolate-brown hair had no reason to stop.

"You impress me – human." Celeste wheezed as she rolled back and tumbled to the ground – one side of her face remained obscured by the sands. However, from the corner of his vision Markus was sure he could see a fluid of unusual coloration dripping from the side of her mouth.

Could it have been blood? He was unsure to say the very least.

"However," In a single agile flip Celeste created some distance, "I think I may have successfully pinpointed your weakness."

Kane watched as Miss Luvendass crept her fingers behind her back to give a swift tug on something that sounded like a zipper. A gentle gust of wind blew, and in an almost enchanting moment her skin-tight combat suit fell to the ground.

Mark couldn't help but stare. How could he not? After all – there was so much mythos around aliens resembling terrifying beasts with claws, tentacles and horribly disfigured faces, or massively swollen heads. However – this alien beauty had the gorgeous curves and ample sized chest that resembled those of normal human women. Indeed, every inch of her form was in perfect check.

Regardless – now was not a good time to be distracted. Mark took a deep breath to collect his thoughts and fell into stance one again, ready for anything.

He could only watch as Celeste's lips curved into a smirk. What was she planning?

"I imagine that you wear those ocular shields for a reason – Mister Kane? Are your eyes perhaps sensitive to light exposure?"

"My sunglasses," Shit – she was even smarter than he'd already given her credit for.

Miss Luvendass smiled to herself and seemed to be moving closer and closer one-step at a time. As the gentle glow of the moonlight bathed her luxurious blue form, she vanished into nothingness.

Though usually reserved, Markus could not help but flinch in surprise, "Impossible! Where are you? Show yourself!"

"I imagine your eyes compensate for their weakness to natural light by being more attuned to the darkness – a form of low level night vision," she began with another cool little chuckle, "However… my species has a very unique ability…."

Celeste appeared to the side of Mark. Before he could even prepare his fists, she struck hard into his ribs with the point of her knee, sending him staggering. Just like that – she blended in like a chameleon and was part of the nothingness once more.

"We have what is known as Luminescent skin. By absorbing the lunar rays of moons, we can render ourselves invisible at night. So," she giggled again in amusement while her foe struggled to pinpoint the source of her voice, "While you do have a minor advantage in terms of nocturnal combat… my own far outmatches yours."

***Crunch!***

Mark snarled as strikes showered his body from all angles. In a desperate attempt at defence he raised his arm to guard, but in mere moments he found his body buckling – his knees dropped further and further to the ground until eventually he panted and choked in pain. Alas, he was defeated in bowed submission. It hurt too much to move – everything burned with the intensity of hellfire.

Celeste was back again – visible to the naked eye and standing proud in all of her natural glory. Mark could only watch through his foggy blue eyes, his entire body still throbbing in agony as one of her hands came downward and clutched the side of his face – bringing his gaze upward to meet her eyes of deepest orange.

"If you're going to finish me off," the fallen prodigy spat blood to the ground and wheezed, "Just do it already…. I may not proudly proclaim to be my father's son, but I am still a Kane… and I will not grant you the goddamn satisfaction of hearing me beg…."

"I have no desire to terminate you," Celeste came back in a soft voice, her lips twisting into something that he dared to imagine resembled a little smile, "I require you alive so that I may pinpoint the exact location of the Nekorian named Momo…."

"Furthermore," It was either his imagination or his faded vision, either way Markus could have sworn this alien girl was inching closer with every word she spoke, "…I must give you an admission. I am impressed… you are the first human to succeed in landing a blow upon my body in close combat…. I may have to keep you for a while… and study your genetic coding."

"I won't," Kane sighed in exhaustion, "I won't tell you where she is…. No matter what you do….."

"Maybe not at this immediate moment," Mark felt his split and bloody lips touched by those of his attacker – a revelation that made his entire body stiffen. The sensation was so moist and damp.

"What in the name of-" The gentleman protested upon his separation, but he instead found himself silenced by a blue finger upon his membranes and a gentle shushing voice.

"Humans have a very interesting taste… I have found. Yours is particularly strong…. Indeed – it would be a waste to liquidate you so soon. So… for now… you shall return to my ship with me."

A solid impact shook the world. Mark found his entire sense of self in a whirlwind. He spun round and around a violent merry-go-round until finally, in one soft thump, his head collided with the sand below and the coherence of words became nothing but strained echoes.

"This is agen- I've aprehen- the target… proceeding with _interrogation."_

Interrogation? Through the flurry of distorted words, it was the one, which stood out with the most prominence. As Mark slipped out of consciousness, a lone thought crawled through his mind.

This was not going to end well.

**To be continued....**


	3. Captured

A foreign structure of brightly illuminated corridors and silvery walls – the lighting pulsed between intervals as Markus struggled with his badly hindered vision. His shades had long since been taken, and a cloudy shroud covered his eyes like film grain.

"I demand you return my sunglasses to me," he uttered with a frustrated growl. Every movement he was in vain. His hands and feet were bound as he found himself secured to some kind of metallic seat.

"You will not be leaving until you comply with my instructions, Mister Kane. Now, shall we begin?"

Celeste's voice, calm, factual, and almost robotic in tone, just like their earlier battle. Regardless of her earlier words, the young elite found himself ill inclined to heed her warning. How could she possibly do much worse?

Markus listened hard in place of his sight – the flipping of a switch and the pattering of a keyboard being two of the clearest audible cues he could discern. Just what in the world was this bizarre alien bounty hunter planning?

"I'll not simply hand over Momo to you… no matter what it is you intend to do. I come from a family in which pride and honor are tantamount. Don't think I'll be swayed so quickly by your threats."

"Fascinating… you speak as if the rigid hierarchy of your family will make a difference to the completion of my overall objective," Celeste giggled as her shoes clacked across the ground, "Sadly… it will not, human," she whispered with a gentle if not slightly icy hand placed upon his cheek.

"Initiate serum administration protocol one – low dosage." After the voice of the extra-terrestrial, there came the low whirring of machinery alongside a terribly loud beeping sound.

"Ouch… damn," Mark's entire body tensed up as he felt something exceedingly sharp jab into the left side of his neck. Was it a needle? Whatever it was, there was a low burning as something cold, a fluid of unknown origin coursed through his bloodstream. He could feel it, throbbing, almost as if it were alive.

"Dear Lo-" He chocked, a sickness beginning to swarm in his stomach as the liquid-like substance squirmed within his body, pulsating as if in unison with his own vastly accelerating heartbeat.

"What have you-"

The gentleman hacked in a pain most extraordinary, crimson liquid seeping from his lips, "What have you done to me?"

"An organic symbiotic lifeform has entwined itself with your blood," Celeste cooed softly, her fingers slinking slowly across the side of his sweat-laden face, "It is akin to the genetic makeup of my own species. Such a thing means that, no matter where you are… I will be able to find you with the use of telepathic communication."

Mark writhed – tiny silvers of breath rasped from his cracked lips, "This is… it's agony… but no matter wh- No matter what you… do… I won't tell you where Momo is…."

"I am quite aware of that fact, Mister Kane," Celeste snapped her fingers. In but a moment his shackles where released and he thumped to the floor - the coldness of the metal a brutal contrast against his burning hot skin.

"Your psychograph indicates a strong sense of character and mental stability. In order to break your will I would risk destroying your mind… and that is something I cannot allow…. Instead, the symbiont will act as my guide."

With a shallow cough the man clawed a hand through his gel-spiked hair and crawled to his knees, tiny droplets of his life blood pattering against the blurred silver floor, "You honestly think I'll-"

The echo of a soft 'clank' sound stirred his senses, and through his hazy blue eyes, he could make out the sight of his sunglasses discarded on the floor. Reaching out desperately, he scooped them up in his hands and slowly put them on, sliding up to the bridge of his nose. The prescription lenses, specially filtered for the sensitivity of his eyesight, brought his picture of the world back into clear focus.

Blue – though it took a moment for everything to return, Mark could make out the sight of blue skin. It trailed upward in the form of a long slender leg. Celeste was towering above him, scantily clad at best in some form of unfathomable alien attire made of leather and black strings.

With a frustrated snarl, he reached out to grab her leg, only to be shoved away with a jab from her outstretched toes, "I would not attempt such an act if I were you. Until the being within your body stabilizes, you will be extremely fragile. Too much stress on the symbiont may-"

A thunderous feeling like no other surged forth, as if knives stabbed into his chest. Chocked by pain, Mister Kane clutched his chest and fell in a heap, "My heart…."

"As I was saying," Miss Luvendass kneeled at Mark's side and held him close, "….Too much stress on the symbiont may wreak havoc on your internal organs until it has adjusted to your body."

In a most bizarre turn of events, the fire within the man's body slowly subsided, "Heed my words, human," Celeste continued as she pulled Mark upright, "One way or another you will cooperate with me. Symbiotic Fusion methods are a taboo of the intergalactic council, but they are wonderfully effective at making those of a more 'primitive' species such as yours… compliant…."

With the pain, finally on the verge of subsidence, Kane took a fragile step back from his captor and breathed a shallow sigh, "What in the world possesses you to do such a perverse things to me? For all intents and purposes… you should kill me… I won't help you…."

"Because," Celeste leaned in to whisper, "The human race… despite your backwater planet… fascinates me. You live in a state of organized chaos, and have no intervention from other beings… constantly walking a thin line between tranquillity and destruction."

"It's so tragically poetic… and yet beautiful… My interstellar cousins from the planet of Xenos 4 have often told tales and constructed stories of coming here to seduce the simple and barbaric humans… but almost none have ever done it. Sadly… you are just too basic… so basic that you have not experienced a global first contact."

Markus shuddered in revelation. Celeste viewed Earth as a colossal space romance. How bizarre – infuriating, especially given the current circumstances. "You are completely insane… deranged even. To think, as a species of a supposedly 'enlightened' galaxy that you view us humans so simply in our design."

"But you are," Celeste smirked sensually. Mark was sure, for a moment that he saw the shade of her cheeks darken, "But it is because of such a simplicity that I find your kind to be so… wonderful."

With no warning arms slinked around the man's broad shoulders, and with every slow second his heartbeat quickened, the throbbing of the symbiont now more noticeable than before as it seemed to 'squeal' within his red liquid. Still exhausted, Markus surrendered as the lips of his alien dominator brushed against his. Goodness did he want to fight back - but he had not the strength.

Alas, as soon as Celeste backed away, a dark scowl twisted his lips, "Remove your hands from me…."

"As you wish," the white-haired beauty loosened her grip and took a step back, but as soon as she did, Mark felt his body shuddering under its own weight. The nausea within resurfaced again, churning his stomach and burning the blood inside like acid.

"Darn," droplets of sweat slid from his forehead as his vision blurred again. This time however it didn't seem to be anything connected to his eyesight, but rather the ungodly discomfort he felt as the alien being within squirmed, "….Can't breathe… everything feels as though it's goi-"

"When you awaken," Celeste's voice, twisted by Mark's badly flickering senses, echoed in a swirling void, "…the pain you feel will subside by a fraction… but the symbiont will connect us both…. I will be able to feel you… down to the very beating of your heart. Wherever you go..."

The delicious bounty hunter of blue chuckled with a soft contentedness, "…I will find you… and it will only be a matter of time until you lead me to Momo."

The pain roared throughout the confines of Markus' form with impunity, its intensity bringing him ever closing to the edge of insanity. With every rigid footstep, it felt harder to move, as if the life force taking up residence within was fighting to consume his thoughts. Moments dragged by, the breathing of the prodigy shallowed, and in a vibrant and bloody sputter, he fell forward and felt the coldness of the floor once more.

"A most fascinating specimen," Celeste's voice echoed, "Most humans would have suffered a substantially larger amount of damage after taking a symbiotic lifeform into themselves…. Natural selection at its very finest…."

* * *

_Was it a dream, or was it a nightmare? In the darkest confines Markus felt himself trapped in seclusion, his feet walked a shattered, crumbling path from which there was no escape. Desolation ruled, as if it were a desert most barren and unforgiving. With every footstep he walked, his feet, covered by the bloodied leather of his shoes, cracked against the sand._

_For endless days and nights he walked, amidst the lifeless landscapes of a long dead city, its halls and corridors screamed in silence for a retribution long since overdue. Each footstep brought him closer, his body, battered and bruised, reached a destination that even he did not know._

_Finally, when the long trail ended, Markus found himself trapped in the twilight of a rising sun, its half extinguished rays pouring out upon the dusty ruins. There was a mirror, cracked in part and encased in a thin sheet of dust. A gentle wipe of his hand brushed aside the worst of the dirt and left a reflection staring back. However, something was very wrong.  
_

_His eyes were no longer blue, but instead an inhuman shade of reddish-purple, his already pale skin as washed out as a ghost, and the veins across his skin a thick and darkened shade of rouge. A howl ruptured his mind, and as if given a life of its own, his reflection smiled back._

" _You want to save the innocent girl, for she is the object of your heart," whispered the haunting image in the glass, "But in order to do so… you will have to find the strength within. We are two that must become one… and as your strength becomes mine… your destiny will unfold. Have pride, Markus Kane… for the power to make your own decisions in life… is finally yours. But tread carefully… for your choices will also affect those in your life which you hold the closest."_

_The mirror exploded in a horrific, twisted laughter, its darkened, tainted eyes staring into the lenses of Mark's sunglasses, "…Awaken… awaken… and for the first time… take control of the life you were given."_

* * *

The stars in the midnight sky – Mark found his eyes, covered by lenses, staring up at the twinkles of the cosmos. Wanting to be obscured no longer, he reached up and took off his shades, sitting up slowly and painfully as his senses of plugged in again.

"I'm on the beach," a sigh of quiet comfort, his achy body singing a chorus as he struggled to lean up against the wood of a little beach hut. There he sat, brushing the golden grains from the black of his torn t-shirt, "My leather coat is gone… and I feel like I've been beaten half to death… the whole thing was no doubt a reality…."

"Shit," Mark cursed under his breath, "If what the alien said was true… then I'll be unable to return to Momo. She'll use me to find her, and then…."

Thought of gore and horror sat in his mind. Celeste had said earlier that she was under orders from her employers to 'liquidate' Momo after all. In other words, if she were found, the poor innocent girl, a cross between a cat and something humanoid, would meet an unfortunate demise.

"No," Mister Kane punched the sand with a powerful frown and looked to the expensive digital watch, finished in perfect silver that sat in a tight clasp around his thick wrist, "It's almost three a.m. I imagine he should still be awake if I try to call… at least… I hope that's the case."

Reaching down, the brown-haired gent slipped his offhand into the pocket of his dirtied leather pants and produced a sleek smartphone. A flick of the screen brought the light to life, perhaps a little too strongly for his eyes, and with a little strain, he pulled up the 'call' directory.

"There he is," Mark sighed with relief and punched the green 'call' icon beneath the name in his short list of contacts, "Please, brother, if you're home right now… I need you to answer."

The dial tone chimed, time after time. With each passing second Kane felt his heart rate quickening, each rapid beat accompanied by a twinge of pain thanks to the 'foreign entity' within his veins. Grains slipped through the hourglass as the agony of waiting continued.

"Mark? Damn! Is everything okay? You didn't turn up for band practice and I was a little fuckin worried about you," the smooth voice of a friend, a comrade most trusted in fact, came over the line. After all that had happened in the hours past, Mark felt a shred of comfort.

"Mike," he came back with a stern voice, his fingers clutched hard around the slim edges of his cellular device, "I need you to listen…. Something bad… very bad… has happened. I have to lay low for the evening and I was hoping I could stay with you. Can you h-

"Wait wait! Hold on! Dammit," The singer's voice was hurried, laced with concern, "What in the hell? Are you all right? Because if someone's fucked with you then you know I've got your back…."

"Calm down, Winters," Mark hacked painfully, yet the smallest smile curved his lips. Mike's friendship, his steadfast loyalty was something he'd always valued.

"I'm a little hurt, yes, but I'll explain the details later. I'm near the old lifeguard house on the beach, and my car's parked around the corner… near the promenade. Can you come across from your apartment and collect me?"

"I'll be right there," came the musician's voice with barely a pause. "Stay put… and for god sakes… if you're hurt don't go pushing yourself. I swear, Markus… you're usually the collected one out of us both…."

Words that again gave Mister Kane a slightly brighter smile amidst the throbbing discomfort he felt inside, "As I said, I'll be sure to give you all of the details once I'm safely at your apartment, and Mike?"

"What is it?"

"For your own sake," he continued with a sternness most uncharacteristic, "Don't take a single detour. Come straight here and get me… no shortcuts… and whatever you do… if somebody comes toward you wearing a hood… then run… and don't stop for any-"

"You're not making a word of sense, shit," echoed Mike across the line in unison with a squeaking sound, something which resembled the squeal of door hinges, "Take it easy and stop rambling…. Don't worry, buddy…. I'll be fine!"

"I'm serious about this," the flustered prodigy, his voice rattled with pain, spoke with steely words, "As I said - a woman… white hair… wearing a hood, almost like a cloak. Her name is Celeste. If someone matching her description tries to stop you-"

Mark halted for a moment as a surge of burning pain erupted forth. He muffled it as best he could in a sharp cough, "...Don't acknowledge her presence…. Do not even consider speaking with her. Turn and run in the other direction, and for the love of all that is sacred... keep going until you're out of sight. She's dangerous... and I doubt she would hesitate to hurt you."

"I hear you, okay? I hear you... loud and clear. Just hold on as best you can. I'm coming to get you now. Trust me... after all I've been through, I'm sure I can cope with some angry ex of yours." With a click, the line went dead, and Mark was left hanging with those final words hanging in his tired thoughts.

"Angry ex? Mike, my friend... you couldn't even begin to imagine."

However, Markus couldn't do anything now but wait, the stars above sparkling as a bittersweet reminder of all that had transpired on this night, "So… there is life out there in the galaxy after all… How painfully ironic…."

Yet despite all that had happened, Mark still felt a deep determination within – an emotion powerful enough to conquer all, "No matter what, Momo," he declared with a clenched fist, "I will protect you... Nobody will take you from me. On my honor as a Kane… I swear it…."

**To be continued….**


	4. Friend in Need

His throbbing, exhausted body on the verge of collapse, Mark welcomed the support of his friend as he slumped his aching back across the leather couch in the lounge.

Mike's apartment – he hadn't visited in a few weeks, perhaps even a month. It didn't seem out of the ordinary, a little messier than usual, but nothing too out of place. He felt at ease, especially after everything that happened.

A dull clattering filled the air as Winters came across from the kitchen area with a couple of shot glasses and a tall bottle of malt. White label, the expensive private reserve kind - this conversation clearly meant business.

"So," the vocalist began, his eyes fixated with an uncharacteristic sternness to them, "You're covered in cuts and bruises and your clothes are torn to shreds."

After pouring the coppery liquid and handing it to Mister Kane, his tone sharpened somewhat, "Who in the shit did this to you, Mark? I swear, if it's one of the local gangs or something like that," Mike frowned before downing his drink and pouring another with zeal, "I'll go out there and set them straight… and I don't give a damn about what happens to me…."

"That won't be necessary, brother," Mark sipped his brownish tipple and set it down on the kitchen worktop, "Those petty thugs out by the marina didn't do this… and besides… do you really think I'd let two-bit rogues and criminals such as their kind lay hands upon me?"

"That's what worries me even more," Mike necked his second drink and set the glass aside, hands clasped together, "You're a respected martial artist… borderline expert. Christ, there aren't many folks around here at brown belt level. So whoever did this to you… they knew what they were doing, no shit…."

If I told you the truth," the prodigy leaned into his seat for support, wincing slightly under the pressure he felt in his shoulders, "You wouldn't believe me. In fact… I'm inclined think you would find me insane."

"You'd be surprised."

There was something about the tone of Mike's voice, the surety of it at least, which made Mark feel a slight hint of relief.

Arms stretched behind his back, Winters smiled sadly, "If I told you even half the crazy stuff I've seen this past six months… well… you'd think I'm the lunatic here."

The idea of telling his most trusted friend that there was life elsewhere in the galaxy – it didn't appeal in the slightest. Regardless, Mark found himself at an impasse as he ran through a number of scenarios in his head to try to explain away the events of the night. There was nothing good – or at least sufficient to keep Momo out of harm's way. Therefore, in the end, he simply sighed and adjusted his trademark sunglasses, sliding them up the bridge of his nose.

"I was attacked by a girl, Mike," he finally admitted, his voice low and dry in its tone, "She wasn't normal by any means…. Forgive me for sounding so delusional by saying this, but I believe she was an alien. Hair of pale white and a strange blue hue to her skin… she could blend in with the night, almost as though she was chameleonic."

Mike's face stiffened with every word, eyes widening substantially as it seemed his mind ran in deep thought. Seconds dragged by and became minutes, until finally, he gave a cautious smile from the corners of his mouth, "Don't worry," he nodded in reinforcement, "I don't think your nuts or shit like that…. In fact… don't ask me why… but I believe you. If you say an alien girl kicked your ass… then it's the truth."

"How in the world can you believe me so simply? In fact… you hardly seem to be the slightest ounce surprised by what I've just told you."

Mark leaned forward, eying the musician seriously, going so far as sliding down his shades in a showing of his tired blue orbs, "You told me not to ask… but I cannot help myself…. You're acting so casually, and I'd like to know how you can put faith in my words over a statement so serious in nature…."

"Because trust me," Mike reached back for his discarded glass and poured another large helping, "The world is a seriously messed up place… and I've seen some insane stuff out there dude… the kinda shit that totally flips things upside down. So… I know you're telling the truth…. I haven't seen an alien myself but… I wouldn't think for a second we're alone beyond the stars."

"Okay," he continued, standing with his beverage clasped in hand, "I'll make it simple… after my last roommate, well… I'd be willing to believe almost anything."

"I can only begin to think about the kind of person he was," Mister Kane gave his friend an uneasy glance to summarize his discontent. He must have been an unusual kind of guy to make Mike Winters of all people so ready to believe in alien life.

"She," the blond corrected, and in a mere moment his eyes seemed downcast, his aura rainy and distant, "But that's beside the point," he bounced back quickly, "You're the one in trouble here… not me…. Why did this crazy alien bitch attack you?"

"She's after my roommate," Honesty was the best policy. Right now, as much as his sense of pride hated it, Mark was darkening the doorway of a friend, "As I said on the phone, her name is Celeste. I believe her intent is to kill the girl I have living under my roof with me."

At this point Mike had abandoned the shot glass and was taking short gulps from the bottle instead, "You better be specific here. Just because I said I believe you, it doesn't mean that this whole thing isn't difficult as all Hell to take in. Start from the beginning."

"If you insist," Kane warned as he prepared to recall the somewhat traumatic events from the hours prior, "But I'd suggest you take a seat on the couch. This could take a while…."

"Don't need to tell me twice." Indeed, Mike was already making his way toward the leather, whole bottle of liquor still wrapped around the expanse of his fingers, "I'm ready when you are."

"Alright," Finally prepared to bring everything to the forefront, Mark looked to the light of the wide living room television set and nodded, "It all started earlier this evening… at least I think that is the case. I was walking on the beach when a hooded figure approached me…."

* * *

Two long hours evaporated into nothingness. Alas, Mike sat lopsided across the couch, the bottle of booze in his offhand half empty, eyes askew down to either the expanse of the story or his alcohol intake, "That's fucking insane," he sighed, handing the malt to Markus.

"The alien thinks your roommate, a girl you're telling me is a CAT, is actually a secret alien weapon created kill people?"

"That is pretty much the gist of the whole scenario, yes." The prodigy gave a small nod of acknowledgement to his peroxide-haired friend and stubbed out the cigarette between his fingers, grabbing the bottle to take a gulp, "As you know… I'm usually a very self-sufficient kind of person, but as much as it pains me…."

Markus placed the alcohol down on the grubby glass coffee table and looked to Mike, his head bowed in respectful address, "I am in desperate need of your help. I simply do not trust my father, Uncle Robert, or their armies of brainless Yes Men to believe me, let alone assist me with this endeavour. Will you lend me a hand in taking Momo somewhere safe before it is too late for her?"

"At this point," the lead singer looked across to his comrade, eyes cloudy for the second time this evening, "I'm fast running out of things to lose. I didn't pursue any of the things I cared about… so all I've got left now is the band… and your friendship."

He looked upward, connecting his eyes, deep and sorrowful with Mark, "Consider it done."

A handshake between the two sealed the deal. "You said Celeste can find you wherever you are, right?" Mike asked as he dragged himself, dull and heavy, from the couch.

"That is indeed the case, or so she claims," came Mark between firing up another cigarette, and taking a long drag of nicotine, "As bizarre as it sounds, she claims to be linked to me through telepathy, so if you tell me where you intend to take Momo… she might still find you through reading my thoughts. I cannot risk that…."

"Then it's simple," the smile of cool confidence upon Mike's face spoke volumes. After all, in the last half a year he'd changed so much, almost to the point where he'd transitioned into a different person entirely. It was right now, more than ever that Markus was grateful for the air of confidence that his friend radiated.

A fire of determination burning in his eyes, Winters reached for his jacket and tossed it over his shoulder, "Here's my plan… I'm going to leave the apartment on an account with my landlady and I'll split with Momo. Don't worry… I'll take her somewhere so far away that not even you, let alone this freaky 'Celeste' chick could begin looking."

"Thank you," Through a smile, Mark showed his gratitude, taking a moment to hit the nicotine for stress relief before he looked back, "Likewise… I will leave town and return to the family estate in Eaglewood City. Even if Celeste is listening into my thoughts at this very moment… I would like to see her try and assail the building. Extra-terrestrial or not, we have a full security detail."

"Then it's settled," Mikey took a few moments to drink before looking off in the direction of his room. "I'll get my things together and head to your place to collect Momo. Come morning I'll pick up my bike from the storage garage and hightail it outta here. Don't worry… no matter what it takes, Mark… I'll keep her safe for you. For once… I'll be the one to help you in your time of need."

Regret – Kane felt it in his heart as Mike made his way toward his bedroom at the back. In a final moment, he reached out and placed a hand upon his friend's shoulder, causing him to stop, "…Before you do this… I need to be sure…. I want you to tell me you're okay with getting involved in this. Otherwise… I could not abide the guilt I feel for requesting your aid."

"For real," Mike flashed a glance of his emeralds, as he looked back, "Markus… I'm fine with this." Turning all the way around, he seemed dead set to continue.

"You're looking at a guy that let everything he cared about crumble down around him." Mark could feel it, the resolve in the younger man's voice as he spoke.

"There came a key point in my life when I could've had anything I wanted. I was sat in the bar across town one night and I had to choose…. I was an idiot… three girls head over heels in love with me, and I wasn't man enough to reach out to the one I cared about the most…. I was on the phone with her too... my crazy roommate I mentioned earlier… and you know what I told her?"

"Enlighten me." Mark felt his hand batted away.

From there, Mike leaned up against the refrigerator and sighed, his eyes glazed over in reflection - he seemed a million miles away.

"I told her I didn't give a damn about the two other girls. Yeah… I said she was the one I'd always wanted, but as much I would've given everything to be with her… it just wouldn't work. We came from two different worlds entirely. She was beautiful, magical in more ways than you could possibly imagine, but because I was just an average guy… it wouldn't have worked…. I guess you could say I was 'Too human' for her."

"Too human?" What a weird thing to say. Mark couldn't quite wrap his head around the meaning, "Whoever she was… the girl you shared this place with… she must have been extremely special to you."

"She was," Mikey's eyes were still hazy, "So much so that I told her to leave… I shredded our 'roommate agreement' and told her to go…. It's weird really…. I always get the feeling I'm walking a long road, and a single choice I make can change the route I'll take…. But I guess that's why I want to help you… because you must really care about the girl you live with… just like I did…."

"Mike," Kane sighed and shook his head slightly, "This time around our problems truly are alike. How a woman can capture the heart of a man…. Thank you once again… for taking such a risk at my behest. I'm eternally in your debt for this, my friend."

"It's nothing, really it isn't." Stopping just short of his doorway, Winters flicked a couple of blond strands away from his eyes, his shoulders tensing as he sighed in what must have been deepest thought, "I just find it ironic… once again I'm walking a path of my own choosing, driven by my heart, and dammit man…."

"Who'd have thought it," A grim chuckle from the singer as he slid into his bedroom, "Aliens are real… I can't say I'm fucking surprised..."

* * *

Markus took a moment to collect his thoughts for the days and weeks ahead. Through briefly shaken by all that had happened – he did not intend to back down.

"Do not worry, Momo…. Mike will protect you until I'm able to deal with Celeste. I will never abandon you… not after you have helped me find so much solace in my heart. No… never!"

A sudden pain shook the body of the brown-haired gentleman. Wincing, he struggled to regain his barings. Something squirmed within his blood, a feeling like no other, somewhere between the slithering of a slime-encrusted snake and a vile pulsing deep within. The sensation, so intense in nature, caused his vision to cascade in a rolling fog.

He foughtt back, gasping for air as his shuddering hands clawed at the kitchen top to hold his form upright. Each gasp felt eternal, the searing within threatening to overload the circuits of his brain. However, through the pain, one thing was certain.

"Celeste," he coughed red upon his shoes, "She's inside my head…."

He and Mike would have to put their plans into action before it was too late, "There isn't much time..."

**To be continued….**


	5. Money and Power

"Stalked and hunted like a dog – damn you Celeste. No matter what you do, I'll not yield. No matter what I have to sacrifice, I won't let you have your way… or play your foolish games with my life."

Markus Kane knew one thing above all else. He'd had it emblazoned into his brain time and time again from the moment he was able to stand upright. His father, his mother, and his uncle, they'd all been indoctrinated into the Kane way of thinking good and proper.

"Money is power, and power breeds dominance." Those words made him sick inside, ill enough to clench the steering wheel as the large metal gates swung open.

The car slid to a stop across a gravel driveway – black chrome and sleek in design. Out of it stepped the man himself, decked out head to toe in leather, a long trench coat blowing in the evening breeze. Without so much as a smile, he slammed the side door shut and looked across the courtyard.

It was then that he saw it - a place that left a sour taste within his mouth. Stood towering in its Orwellian grandeur was a three-story building of white marble and stone, pained windows, and fine trimmed greenery slinking across the expanse of the outer walls with the animosity of devilish fingers. Indeed, this place was behemoth, and a memory of the life he'd always tried to forget.

Outside of these walls, he was Mark, the friend, the comrade, the manager of the band, a part time junior manager at one of Glenberry's game stores. Yet, that all changed as soon as he returned. Within the prison-like compound of this stately home, he was Markus Johnathan Kane, the disgraced heir to an upper middle class fortune, the son of a prominent businesswoman and an esteemed neurosurgeon.

Flashbacks came flooding back with the unforgiving intensity of a tidal wave. The frown upon his father's face, his younger sister, daddy's little princess by all accounts, and worst of all, the reminder of what he'd always be unless he sacrificed his freedom:

"I'm the stain on the honor of my family – the traitor who took his trust fund and ran from his responsibilities. I attended a community college, and I manage a local band in Glenberry…. I'm the disgrace, aren't I?"

The crunch of heeled shoes across the gravel caught the man's senses. Already on high alert, he spun to greet the source of the sound with hostility, "Who's there?"

A short young woman entered his cone of vision, slender in her build with neat black hair just past her shoulders. She stood with a smile, her form decked out in a traditional French maid attire.

"Welcome home, Master Kane. This is a much-unexpected visit. If you had hoped to see your father, Master Robert, or Miss Maria, I'm afraid they are all away on business at present. They will not be returning for at least eight to twelve days."

"It's fine, Carla," Mark came back with a smile, leaning up against his car, "I've little interest in seeing my dad as I'm sure you're aware. In fact, I'm here in order to attend to some personal business of my own. There a matter of utmost importance I must resolve."

"Well then," Carla gave a short bow and smiled sweetly, looking back with a faint flicker in her greenish-blue eyes, "If there is anything I can do to make your stay more enjoyable then please let me know…. As always, I am here to ensure that the needs of yourself and your sister are catered for."

"My sister," Kane pondered for a moment as he pictured her visage within his mental landscape, the spoiled, bratty teen with the attitude of a child. Indeed, she took the stereotype of Valley Girl to a near syndrome level.

"Is Melody home right now?" He needed to know, if she were, he'd have to make sure she was moved somewhere safe for the time being.

"No, Miss Melody is currently away with two of her friends on a short retreat. I don't think she will be back until the end of the week at the very earliest."

Thank God, that was exactly what Mark wanted, "So... it would seem I'm all alone right now. Very well… that makes things all the easier given my current predicament."

"Predicament?" The youthful lady of ebony locks questioned his words with a slightly downcast expression, "I do hope that everything is okay for you right now, Master Kane."

"Markus," he corrected her, "And please… you need not be so formal while my father is away on business. However… if you could do me a small favour I'd be most grateful indeed."

"What is it, sir?"

Straight to business, he had to be sure things went exactly according to his plan, "Can you please assemble the security detail in the dining room, and also have the cooking staff prepare a meal for everyone. I have important matters to discuss."

"The security detail?" Now Carla looked extremely confused, "It has been a long time since you've requested a bodyguard of any kind, Markus…. I get the feeling you're not being entirely honest with me…. If I may… away from the ears of your dad… I would like to know… are you in danger?"

With a sigh, the gentleman made his way toward the porch, his faithful assistant following in tow with a nervous frown, "Not so long as we lock this place up tight like a fortress," he spoke under his breath with disdain, "How… if you please… I really must speak to security."

"Of course, Markus. I'll have them report to the dining room immediately."

"I am most grateful for your assistance, and Carla?"

"Yes?"

There was no room to take chances, not right now, "Please… go to the armoury and fetch my sidearm from the attaché case beside the gun cabinet."

Not a word in response. When Mark glanced back, he found his lady aid frozen to the spot. stiffness held her fast. It took many a moment before she came back with a nod, brushing past with renewed haste. "I'll bring it to the dining room…."

* * *

"My room – I can hardly believe it has been almost a whole year since I last set foot in here."

A decadent abode of crushed velvet, oaken dressers - and a wide four-poster bed sprawled across a space so wide it might well have been a small apartment of its own. Sighing in bitterness, Mark kicked off his shoes and slipped deftly across the soft carpets to rest in a small, rounded study chair. His exhausted blue eyes gazed into the expanse of an exquisite antique mirror, which took up residence beside a watercolour portrait of violent reds and yellows. Swirling patterns danced in the faint bedside light just across the way.

"The last time I decided to come here… things did not end well."

The memory still stuck fast – Christmas, the time of the 'esteemed' Kane family dinner. It was a pretentious affair at best. All branches of the clan from across the country would gather at the family home and discuss business between several bloated rounds of alcohol and foodstuffs. Lasting for two days at a time, it was as much an abhorrent showing of wealth as everything else in this damned household.

"It was also the very last time I spoke to the old man directly." Indeed, Mark had made his intent to remain in Glenberry to pursue his own ends loud and clear – and in front of the entire patriarchy to boot.

Regardless – At this moment in time, the issue was not one of his family ties. True, the very thought of staying here a second longer than he deemed essential was a grim prospect, but right now, as disgustingly ironic as it was, the Kane Estate was the safest place in the world.

"I cannot stand being here," likewise, he could not pull his gaze away from the almost hypnotic calling of the mirror as he took stock of the recent events.

"Celeste, an alien bounty hunter from another planet…. She's here on earth to arrest me and kill Momo, and so far I've been able to do very little when it comes to stopping her. She's devious and cunning… but not reckless… the perfect weapon."

A smile – a showing of respect, which he could not contain, crept upon the corner of his lips, "How unusual… for the life of me I cannot stop myself from admiring an adversary so deadly. Indeed – this is the first time I've not been able to overcome a scenario with either money or sheer hard work."

"Regardless," Mark stood from his seat and took swift steps toward the two artistically shaped French doors at the farthest side of the room. With a brief tug of the handle, they came swinging open, and with renewed vigour in the cool night air he stepped upon the balcony.

"It is time to survey the grounds."

As if a Lord of the manor in his own right, his powerful eyes of deepest sapphire cast their gaze outward to the most glorious expanse of the grassy courtyard. Men in long coats with polished handguns and earpieces – hired professionals at the behest of the family name, took turns patrolling in efficient teams.

"Eighteen men in total," Mark folded his arms with confidence. He felt it in his stomach – a brief flicker of the family pride he would usually detest with all his being. Instead, its presence filled him with a hope most powerful for the first time in recent memory.

"It seems I cannot entirely erase the markings of my birth. Indeed… as much as I loathe it… the money which my family is ruled by has granted so much control and power…"

Right now, that very power to buy others kept him safe, and in the deepest and darkest parts of his soul – he knew it, too.

"Indeed – I am a hypocrite," he whispered, reaching downward to his left hip. His long fingers found the leather touch of a holster, and from it, he drew a heavy semi-automatic pistol with a metallic blue finish, the hilt designed with smooth custom grooves to fit easily within the palm.

"I have spent so many years of my life running from the very people I call family, and now, in my time of most dire need, I find myself taking refuge within the confines of a place I had long since abandoned in my heart."

Flicking off the safety, Mark chambered a round within his chunky firearm and gripped it tightly within his hands. Slow and steady – just as the instructor had trained him all those years prior. Nodding to himself in confirmation, he took a step and leaned upon the supporting stone pillars of his balcony.

Floodlights illuminated the entire area closest to the house, and something of a makeshift perimeter had been set up. In mere hours since his arrival, the fallen prodigy had turned this place into something akin to a small fortress of almost military efficiency.

' _This is Johnson – we're finishing our second sweep, nothing to report. I'm going to swing across to the rear parking area and check for any signs of movement over in that direction.'_

' _Roger that – keep all radio contact exclusive to this channel. If somebody really does intend to harm Mister Kane then we have a responsibility to keep him safe and apprehend any would be perps.'_

' _Understood. Keep those eyes peeled until daybreak, boys.'_

The faint crackle of chatter from the radio at Mark's left side hip was at least something of a comfort. Right now it was quiet, but for how long?

"Okay, Celeste," Mister Kane turned his back, making his way inside and locking the doors behind, "What will be your next move, I wonder?"

***Knock Knock***

The door – as if by reflex Mark tightened his grip around the gun. "You may enter."

Relief surged through his veins at the sight of Carla, this time dressed in her snug off duty clothes, a long pair of shorts and a warm orange pullover.

"I've been sent by the head of security," she chimed shyly, her eyes fixated upon the weapon in the room, "They told me to let you know that they're going to swap personal soon for the graveyard patrol."

So they hadn't seen any sign of an attacker. That was as much good news as it was bad news. Clearly Celeste had no intention to rush in recklessly, "Thank you for letting me know. I'm counting on you to keep me-"

"I'm sorry sir but I have to know," the lady stepped up – her hands shaking nervously in her lap, "Security patrolling the courtyard, the entire building on lockdown, just what has happened for you to resort to this? You're in trouble, aren't you Markus? Clearly you a-"

"You wouldn't understand even if I told you," The prodigy set the firearm on his bedside and stood, tired eyes on show without the filtered lenses, "For now… just know that I'll be staying here for a few days longer, and until then… I need protection to ensure my safety."

"But Markus! I've been at the side of yourself and Miss Melody since our childhood. Back when my mother served in the house, we used to play together all the time… I've been here as long as you have. We're friends, aren't we?"

"It is for exactly for that reason I don't want to get you involved." Brushing a hand through his slick, gelled hair, Mark swept his weapon up and used it to point outside, "For your own sake… just keep to your duties in the household… and for the love of God… if someone does enter the perimeter… hide."

The look of terror in Carla's eyes told a thousand stories in one. Her frown twisted into a fearful whine from her delicate lips, and with an obstinate chunter she turned her back and made for the door, "Alright… forget it… but don't say I didn't try to help in your time of need. This is the thanks I get... and to think I missed having you around… ass."

Slamming the door behind her, the room shaking, Carla left Mark alone with his thoughts.

Finally in the silence, the prodigy of brown hair gazed into the mirror again. It kept him transfixed, even so much as brought him a shred of comfort right now, "I've already put Mike at risk… I can't put you in any further danger than you already are by being here, Carla. Forgive me…."

* * *

**Meanwhile….**

With a turn of a silvery key in the lock, Mike shoved the doorway open softly, "Mark's apartment," he sighed, "Now I have to find this 'Momo' girl and take her w-"

"Who is it I wonder, Meow? Master Mark, is that y-"

A flick of the light switch bathed the simple but specious apartment in a ray of powerful illumination. Mike felt his heart flutter with surprise as he saw her, the girl described to him in earlier discussion, "Cat ears and a tail? He wasn't screwing around…. Then again, after Kyu, anything's possible I guess…."

"Mister?" The young woman stood there, arms folded apprehensively. While she was still, Mister Winters decided to look her over.

Short and thin, slender even, her petite body clad in something that resembled a Japanese Yukata, a piece of clothing he'd seen several times before when Kyu went on her anime binge sessions. Her eyes, attentive, quick and sharp, stared with intent, but there was a certain softness to them, a gentleness.

"You're Momo, am I right?" He had to be absolutely sure. Then again – how many women had feline features?

"Yes," the girl chimed with a happy smile, "I'm Momo, neow! Are you a friend of Master Mark's? He hasn't come home yet, and Momo is starting to run out of tuna in the fridge…"

Trying to explain the full length of the situation might not end well, and Mike had been warned as much. Instead, he went to stand beside Momo, reaching out his hand with the usual cool and collected smile, "Mark's having some trouble and he won't be coming home for a while…. He asked me to pick you up and take you somewhere safe until he's able to come get you."

"Well," Momo's ears went down – alongside her sunshine warmth, "I don't know..."

In a bid to try and win her over, Mikey took a breath to calm his nerves. He expected as much, especially after walking so suddenly like a total stranger. "I need you to trust me... I promise, Momo," he crept forward just an inch, "I won't hurt you..."

Just like a cat, her tail curled apprehensively, and she scampered away to stand beside a little fish tank in the corner of the room, "You don't seem scary, meow… and you did have a key to come inside… so…. OKAY!"

The cat girl came bounding forward, latching onto Mike's pressed purple shirt. Both ears twitched playfully and she let out a soft giggle, "What's your name? Momo can't keep talking to you unless you tell her your name!"

"Mike," The singer smiled again. However, he struggled for a moment, burying his concern deep within. To see how trusting Momo was… it was more than a little unnerving. No wonder Mark reached out for help in keeping her safe, "But since you're so sweet… you can call me Mikey!"

"Awesome, nya! Alright, Mikey! Momo's going to follow you now! So lead the way! Tell me where we're going!"

"Of course," Back to the door while Momo danced along in tow, "We're heading to the garage across town, and then we're going away for a little while... just a few days at most."

"Going away?" The kitty's eyes shone with mysterious wonderment, "Momo hasn't gone anywhere since she started living with Mark…. Oh wow! We're going on a vacation! YAY!"

"She's far too trusting of strangers." Mike whispered under his breath as he reached behind to shut the door, "I have to keep her safe… otherwise I could never look Mark in the eye again."

The duo took off swiftly down the corridor and stepped out into the darkness of night. The cool air was nice - soothing at the very least.

"Fairies, aliens, cat girls… the world we live in is fucking crazy…." A cynical chuckle sewed everything together for the man as he escorted his charge down the metal staircase, each foot causing a 'clunk' as he went.

"Meow! Did you say something, Mikey? Momo has very good hearing…."

"I was just talking to myself, don't worry about it…."

There was no point in sticking around any longer. With the ever-looming threat of this supposed 'alien danger' at the forefront of his mind, the singer softly grabbed the feline-eared girl by her hand to guide her along.

"We don't have much ti-

"Target acquired," a soft, alluring voice of a woman, one Mike hadn't heard before. The hairs upon his back standing on edge, the blonde-haired person looked back with a nervous twitch.

"There's nobody there," yet all he saw was an empty doorway a rain sleaked staircase. His mind was playing tricks on him - yes! That must have been it, right?

"Mister Mike," Momo cooed softly as her soft hand tightened in its grip. Her ears drooped down again, "I have a really bad feeling in my tummy. Momo can't explain it but… I'm worried. We should go, meow…."

"No kidding," rounding the corner, the pair briskly ran the streets under the cover of rainy nightfall, "We're almost there…."

The tension in the air was thick. Concerning aliens, most people imagined tentacles for torture, mutated faces with jagged teeth and acid for saliva.

"Dammit Mark... what have you gotten yourself into?"

**To be continued….**


	6. Demon Within

"Still no word from Mike and Momo," Markus – frustrated to say the very least, tossed his phone on the dresser, looking to the oil painting across the room, "I hope they're both alright…."

His eyes scanned the vibrant colors in their fullest splendour, the passionate reds and crystallised blues swirling together in a most mystifying fusion. Artwork – it wasn't something he held particularly close to heart: aside from this single work of most wonderful precision.

"The Angelic Chorus… it depicts a violent rainstorm off the coast of Thailand. Indeed," with a short heave he raised his tired body from the velvety embrace of the bedside chair, "…It's a truly amazing picture… the prized work of an Asian-American art graduate who visited Glenberry last Fall."

He felt his mind wandering there – to the coastline of the exotic Asian climate as the tropical storm rolled in with all of its destructive beauty, a moment of solace perhaps in a time of great tension. "To stand in the rain like that… it brings me such a feeling I cannot put into words."

' _Still nothing, boys. Keep those patrols frequent… we've not been given instructions from Mister Kane to halt our search for this assailant. Hernandez… are those infrared sensors functioning around the entrance to the compound?'_

Chatter over the radio across the room – the security detail at work. Father's absence felt like a blessing right about now. After all, how was it possible to explain this whole bizarre coaster of events?

"….I somehow do not think father will be amused if I tell him that I assembled the entire security detail because an alien mercenary is trying to abduct me…."

No – Mark knew all too well what would happen if he told the patriarch - he'd end up wheeled out of the grounds in a straightjacket. It would be a scene akin to that of the infamous Hannibal Lecter.

"This situation is most vexing indeed," he sighed, grabbing the polished grip the blue-tinted handgun sat upon the draw.

"Guns," a sigh of disdain, "An object so inelegant in the way it protects a person…" Strapping the harness and holster across his waistline, Mister Kane stepped around the obstruction of his wide velvety bed, making a beeline in the direction of the door… "Regardless of how much prefer the use of hand to hand combat… I must utilize this more effective method for the time being."

With outstretched fingers, the brown-haired gentleman took hold of the polished silver door handle – and with a gentle grunt of exertion he yanked it open, the hinges creaking as they went.

* * *

Beams of light with a sharp intensity struck out – their harshness something far beyond his darkened eyes of blue. A routine, he took the sunglasses from his pocket and folded out the arms with a single deft flick of the wrist, placing the filtered lenses over his fragile ocular orbs. It cooled the burning harshness of the hallway chandeliers.

"Three days now," A left turn down the hallway, Mark's black sock-clad feet lightly thumping across the fine brown carpet. This house never changed – decadence and more decadence as far as the eye could see. Pushing his quiet disgust aside, his thoughts wandered back a notch, "Three days and not a single stir of trouble… or word from Mike and Momo to tell me they are safe."

The curvy figure of a deadly alien – her otherworldly eyes of orange flickering with every calculated line upon which she spewed. It was a near impossibility to scrub that day almost a week prior from his mind – the way in which Celeste Luvendass tormented him was a unique one.

A flashback, the cold feeling of a shot in the neck – for days now Mark had also wondered what in the Hell his extra-terrestrial captor pumped into his blood. Whatever it was, one thing was certain:

"It feels like there is acid burning inside my veins…. Whenever something causes me stress," he paused in monologue, feet anchored in place as his offhand came to squeeze the side of his neck, "…I feel as though I'm about to burst into flames… a sensation which parallels a bloodlust… or perhaps a lack of restraint… overtakes me…."

It was far from normal – essentially Markus had always been a very calm and collected person. However, in light of the situation there was seldom time to dwell. His path resumed, Mister Kane took a left past the first floor study and swung into one of the West Wing's many bathrooms.

Pristine whites and hues of cream – they sparkled in a glorious marble beauty. In the centre of this room, its contrast most evident in comparison to the bedrooms and hallway carpets of red and brown, there sat a sculpted whirlpool bath with polished silver taps and an extendable showerhead.

Huge mirrors above the many sinks threw back Mark's reflection – all while hand towels and colorful soaps sat neatly arranged at each side. Long blue bath towels and matching robes hung neatly from the heated racks beside the frosted glass of the wide balcony windows.

"Ironic," Mark sighed with his first step, avoiding the large tub in a long stride, "…The bathrooms have been refurbished again…."

Stopping just short of one of the sinks, he slumped with a tired groan, slapping a button beside the glass to kill the violence of the lights. Blackness – illuminated by the faint flicker of halogen from the adjacent mirror. "Finally – I can take these things off…"

In a well-rehearsed sweep, the Kane son took the shades out of the equation, sitting them beside the sink as he gazed with strained eyes into his reflection. "My god…."

Embers of violence – white-hot fires burned throughout the expanse of his circulatory system. "Ahhh…" Markus bit down hard with his teeth to supress a wayward snarl from escaping. Doubled over as his entire form shuddered under an agony most supreme, he struggled with short breaths to keep the air inflating his lungs.

Feral screams of an inhuman nature pierced his mental landscape, ringing in his ears as something wriggled around inside – twisting his lifeblood in a torrent of sharp stabbing pains. "….What did she," Mark gasped hard – sweat pooling across his face, "...What did that alien vixen do to me?"

' _Let go of your thoughts… let the restraints you hold upon yourself melt away…. Embrace the power… bind your mind with my own… and in return we will both become something more than human….'_

A voice – in his own internal tone but distorted and bitter, it bore a lustful twinge beyond anything he'd ever heard. Mark kept on struggling, his sight fogging over, blurring and breaking while his nerves melted.

"I refuse… whatever you are…. GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" A roar boomed from the depths of the gentleman's vocal cords, shaking his entire world – all while the twisted presence within his body squealed in discomfort.

' _That woman… she's near, Markus. You can resist me if you want… but you'll assuredly need me in the future. Just remember… that we're both one and the same…. I was given life when I fused with your blood. Likewise, you need only say the word… and I can shatter the limits of your feeble human body…. Remember… the power to defeat those who stand in your path is but a moment away….'_

Icy cold – the fires of Lucifer subsided – and left in their place was a frozen surge throughout Mark's entire body. He exhaled hard, clawing against the sink, scratching the marble with his fingernails to stand upright.

"My eyes… they're blood red…." His lights of ocean blue were gone, the cool watery sapphires he'd had since birth dried out and replaced with a barren ruby shade. More so, they glowed softly with an unnatural light beyond his comprehension.

"I need to calm down…." With a raspy breath, the fallen prodigy released the sink to stand unsupported. A sharp intake of breath steadied his nerves, and slowly but surely:

"….At last," his irises returned to their natural oceanic hue. "Under no circumstances can I let that _thing_ take control of my senses again. If it does… then I fear for the safety of everyone around me."

Pounding feet against the hall carpets – in a strained flicker the light of the bathroom mirror died. Such a sudden occurrence was reason enough to make Mark's heart dip within his chest, its beats quickening with each microbe of time. "Something's not right…."

"It's a power cut!" The shrill voice of a maid carried across the West Wing corridor, "Elisa… go grab me a light, please? I can't see anything like this."

"But the guards told us to wait inside! Where's Master Kane? Have you seen him since this morning?"

"Last I checked he was in his room!"

"This is not a good sign," reaching for his handgun, eyes long since adjusted to the embrace of darkness, Markus, swept his sunglasses into the pocket of his pressed white shirt and made a break for the door. He paused, mind in overdrive, "The entire house has a primary power supply… and two backup generators running independently from the grid. It shouldn't take this long for the emergency power to stabilize itself…."

The fact that it hadn't was enough – Mark reached on instinct for the safety switch of his semi-automatic, chambering a round and slowly cracking the door open. A swift peak outside revealed the faint piercing beams of flashlights across the way – toward the first floor staircase to be exact.

"Members of the security staff…. They're unharmed, thank goodness. I better make a break for my bedroom and collect the radio I so carelessly discarded. It's essential I stay in contact with the men in the courtyard until we restore power inside."

Doubling back the way he came took a moment. Alas – the gentleman of lightly spiked brown hair stalled just outside the door of his room. His whole body leaned up against the wood in nervous waiting, the tightness of his grip upon the weapon becoming all the stronger, "Three," he placed his spare hand on the handle, "Two… one…"

***Thud***

* * *

The hinges screamed, and through the door, Mister Kane barrelled. Both hands clutching the gun tightly, his eyes took note of everything as best they could, "Seems clear…."

Indeed – there was nothing out of the ordinary, not a single looming shadow or sinister looking figure sprawled across the bed as his overactive mind had expected. "Now I'm letting the expanse of my imagination run wild…"

A faint crackle of static hissed out of the radio speaker – Mark's back raised in reflex. Taking a moment to breathe again, he brought his nerves back under control. With a kick of the heel, the door slammed shut with a resounding 'bang' – and from there he went to grab the communication device.

"Johnson… can you hear me? Why don't we have power inside the house?" Silence – it felt almost deafening in its own right. Each second dragged like minutes, and the tension in the air was stagnant enough to slow his breathing.

' _Mister Kane,'_ finally a reply, it did wonders for morale at a time like this, _'I'm sorry, sir! Something crossed one of the infrared sensors we placed in the courtyard. Not long after that, the lights went out. I sent Peters and Francis to flick the generator after the backup stalled… but they haven't come back yet.'_

"Darn it," Mark brought the radio closer to his ear, his eyes narrowing with a seriousness to match, "Stay focused out there and do a full patrol of the area directly outside the house…. Stay alert… I don't think we're alone!"

' _Right you are, sir! If we see anything out of the ordinary I'll make sure you're informed right aw-'_

***Bang… bang bang!***

'I'VE GOT SOMETHING OVER HERE! It's fast! I can barely-'

A shroud of semi-automatic gunfire – it permeated the air alongside a volley of muzzle flashes. Mark saw them plain as daylight from his newfound place of observation beside the balcony. They kept up with little hope of stopping.

Swinging outside with his weapon in hand, Mister Kane looked out upon the courtyard with the eyes of an overseer. Gun barrels lit up as a group of guards discharged rounds to the east – their positions further illuminated by the marker-like intensity of their flashlights. "She moves like a a fucking wisp," one of the men screamed out over the volleys of gunfire, "For fuck sakes! I can't hit her!"

"Celeste," Mark adjusted the collar of his sharp dress shirt - a growl sliding from his lips, "….She's here…."

"What in the world is this? She some kind of witch?"

"Get over here and help!"

"I'm out of rounds… somebody grab me another nine millimetre clip!"

"Francis! Where are Francis and Peters?"

Voices sprang even louder from below. Gunshots flew in greater abundance as the majority of the security force converged upon the same spot – many of them emptying their entire ammunition counts and desperately scrambling for an opportunity to reload between the full extents of the chaos. A bluish blur buzzed between the bodies of men, systematically knocking them to the ground one by one as if they were paperweights.

"She won't stop moving!" A member of the detail yelled in panic before his face planted the floor. The gun freed from his hand as a vail of mist descended, it rolled across the grass of the expansive front lawn. The deep gray thickened into a hellish looking fog, its shade twisting into that of the color blue. From within the prison-like confines of the obscuring smog, there beamed a single powerful flash of neon green light.

Mark watched as this drama – something as close as humanly possible to an action movie, played out, "I need to get down there and help them…. She wants me, after all."

It took not a moment for him to turn and make a dash back through the darkened lengths of the bedroom. Bursting out into the hallway, his feet pounded against the carpeted flooring, his orbs of blue single-mindedly fixated upon their goal: the staircase leading to the downstairs hallway.

* * *

With thunderous force, Markus raced down every step, sliding to a stop at the bottom to slip on a pair of his shoes. There it was, directly ahead, the doorway leading outside. "I need to get out there… now!"

A stabbing blast of white light – once it cleared the huge oaken doorway, several metres wide at that, had simply evaporated into a sludgy pile of muck. Through it, there stepped a figure most painfully familiar to the disgraced prodigy. Unwilling to show his fear, he remained bolt upright in the hall.

"Still you try to evade me," A wiggle of her curvy hips and a sultry chuckle from her lips – the horned alien beauty known as Celeste sauntered forward with a flash of glee most playfully sinister.

Mark had little choice but to stand tall, gun trained at the ready. A faint sense of danger made things even more clear to him: battle was drawing near, "The security guards… my father's men," he snarled abruptly, the crosshair of his weapon trained firmly upon the temple, "….What did you do to them?"

"They're alive," Luvendass giggled – Mark watched carefully as she reached toward a belt across her right thigh. From it she produced a shiny silver cylinder-like device. "….I simply rendered them unconscious… it would be unprofessional of me to kill humans… especially when there are no treaties with the Intergalactic Council here."

Markus remained unimpressed by her fancy words and kept to the matter at hand, "If you are still so intent on taking me with you… you will have to do so by force." He'd shoot at a second of notice if she tried anything – no more allowing this intergalactic 'visitor' to run riot with his life.

"Oh I expected you would say such a thing, Markus Kane." Flipping the cylinder she held in her hand, Celeste flicked her thumb against the backside, and from it there spewed a beam of brightest red – it hummed faintly, making a mesmerising 'swoosh' sound with every twirl.

Kane stood back and memorized every detail of the strange object. It resembled a weapon, a cross between a baton and a sabre. "Your high tech gadgets fail to impress me…."

"And neither do yours… being so primitive in nature. That thing in your hand... a kinetic force weapon of a high velocity… so simple compared to the fine workings of laser weaponry. This piece of equipment I hold right now," Celeste looked toward the flickering beam of her weapon, her orangey eyes glowing slightly as she did so, "….Is a class three laser-blade. Solid in its consistency, it holds the same degree of force as an Elizian Crossbinder on impact."

She honed her gaze with every step toward Mark – her behind giving an elegant wiggle as she went, "In the tongue of my home planet, Tendricide …."

" _Zen chisen kel-restaro en vilerantae…. Shee estus sai varell, Markus Kane…."_

There was a bizarre, almost whimsical beauty to the flow of the foreign language – Mark felt his head spinning as every word flowed like smooth honey into his ears. It took a sharp mental slap of the senses to bring him back to reality. However – he couldn't deny the hint of curiosity toward her words.

"Repeat that in English, if you please… or German…. I'm fluent in either."

"You have reached the end of the line." Celeste smiled happily, giving the beam-sabre in her hand a smooth swing. Its edge tore through wooden form of the staircase handrail as if it were expensive brown paper, "Regardless of your desire to resist… you are coming with me, Markus Kane."

That in itself was all the prompting Markus Jonathan Kane required. Fingers squeezed against the trigger of his weapon, he sidestepped away from the predatorily invigorated blue hellion, his sunglasses tilted to reveal a burning red aura to his attacker. "Try as you might… you're not taking me alive."

The blood in his veins – it seared once again.

' _Let me out…. With my help you'll silence this harlot with ease….'_

A shake of the head silenced the voice raging inside – Mark kept his footing steady, "I'm right here, Agent Luvendass. Come and get me…."

" _Keleran Saei verran arrand, gii yosen Terran._ It will be my pleasure…. Show me the Earthling fire inside you."

**To be continued….**


	7. Losing Control

Bullets erupted in sparks of glorious ignition – zipping forth from the smoking barrel of a gun. Aimed at the head and prepared to take down his most tenacious foe, Markus Kane kept his eyes focused. There was to be no going back – not now. Celeste needed to be stopped – she was far too skilled, far too dangerous, to allow any other outcome. His heart rampaged in tremendous succession, warning his body not to push things too far.

Celeste sped between every shot he fired as though she were little more than a blur, giggling cutely, mockingly at his attempts to silence her. There was no doubt in the mind of Mister Kane that she was toying with him. However, he wouldn't allow her the satisfaction of crawling under his skin like an ant.

The gorgeous alien bounty hunter veered to a stop, heels smoking hot from the friction, and wisped back her strands of perfect silvery-white hair with little effort. "Your skill with such a weapon is commendable, human. I will grant you that much praise. Regardless, I still implore you to surrender before I am forced to get serious."

A whip of the beam sabre – a flurry of red, and in an instant half of the guardrail beside the staircase shattered into a violent hail of wood and splinters. Celeste puffed out her ample chest with pride, moving in for the kill with an all too playful wiggle of her behind. "Indeed…. I have done calculations based upon your profile… and the chances of your success against me are a mere seven percent."

Mark had no intention of surrendering. A shake of his head was all of the proof he was willing to give. A squeeze of the trigger and his gun clicked empty. Growling in mild frustration, he slid the weapon back into the safety of its holster. "I don't need a firearm to best you."

Several deep breaths acted as a form of preparation for the exchange to come. Markus felt his energy swirling, reaching its height at the centre of his body. With every inhale he drew in more focus, more concentration, and with every exhale he sent his strength channelling into his arms and legs.

"Brace yourself. I have no intention," Mark took off on a sprint, his limbs pulsing under the fires of almighty adrenaline, "…of holding back!"

A powerful sweep of the leg – its target locked. The side of Kane's heel smacked against the hilt of the extra-terrestrial weapon clasped in Celeste's offhand. He smiled in quiet victory as it spiralled through the air, finally coming back down and shattering against the ground in an eruption of blueish-purple light.

"Hehe!" Celeste leaped back, skidding across the carpet to generate some space, eyes narrowed in a way befitting only of the most calculating predator. Arms and legs outstretched with great dexterity, she held herself steady like an alluring spider. "Exactly like the last time we fought. I regret to inform you that you are playing into my hands, Markus Kane. How easy this will be if you do not diversify your tactics!"

A blue blur sped past the prodigy's cone of vision. The entire world spun in on itself as Mark panicked. His feet left the floor, his entire body sent sailing upward, and the next thing he knew, his back met with a sensation of stabbing sharpness.

* * *

Even in the darkness of the room Markus still saw red – a throbbing warning of the damage his body had sustained. Everything felt lost and disjointed, almost the same as a puzzle missing some of the pieces. His eyesight betrayed his thoughts – both of which were clamouring to prevail amidst all of the nonsense.

It was bizarre – Celeste stood far down below, perched against a statue in the entrance hallway. Yet somehow, Markus was looking down at her as if he was the one who had moved. A soreness screamed across the expanse of his whole body, the pain finally making sense as he took note of a pile of shattered wood beneath his torso.

' _She kicked me with such force that I sailed through the air, crashed against the railings, and landed on the carpet of the first floor balcony. Such madness, she has force the likes of which I've never encountered before.'_

A hoarse cough erupted from Mark's mouth. He suppressed it with a hand, taking note of the red liquid spattering his palm in the aftermath. She'd done some damage with that kick, no doubt. To be able to make him hack up blood like that was a cause of concern. Indeed – there was only one course of action left if the Kane heir wanted to survive this encounter.

' _I have to use everything I've got. It may not be honourable, but I'll have to try and pin her down and shoot her. All of my efforts seem wasted in an open fight. Lord knows, I've only just started and if she hits me like that a second time… I'm done.'_

Mark pulled the forty-five automatic from its place at his hip. Speed was of the essence – especially since Celeste was fast approaching with a dash of near superhuman speed. Reaching downward, he slipped the reserve magazine from the pocket of his pants, pressed down hard on the switch at the side of handgun grip, ejected the empty clip, and slapped in the new one.

With a resounding, 'click' another round was ready, and Markus glared down his enemy with an aura of seething frustration. "Come and get me, you harlot."

Celeste reached the top of the staircase in a glorious showing of alien deft – leaning up against the railings, caressing what remained of the supports with delicate blue fingertips. She seemed enamoured, almost aroused by the tactile sensation. Finally, she brought her gaze of powerful, glowing orange to meet with Markus.

Every footstep she took came with an almost deafening echo. Something was wrong – Mark could feel a foreign sensation crawling inside his veins, searing and red-hot like acid. The very nature of it was too much to handle, bringing his brain, and all of his senses into overdrive.

' _I'm taking over, Markus. If I let you stay in control then this stupid bitch is going to kill us. Don't worry… it won't hurt a bit. You might even like it. Stop fighting and surrender. Eventually you'll realize that with my power you'll be almost unstoppable.'_

The voice was back in all of its glory – alien and twisted in its intentions. It spoke in his tongue, but was gnarled and poisonous, distorted by nothing but base instinct and unholy sadism. Mark tried to fight back, he struggled with every shred of his conscience to stop the rising feeling of rage and blood-curdling sickness from overtaking him. No matter how much it tore him apart from the inside, he couldn't lose his restraint.

' _I'm not letting you in. So long as my sense remains I'll fight you… even if it shatters my thoughts like glass and flays my nerves. Whatever Celeste injected me with… whatever you are… you are not a part of me. You pray on my negative emotion… and you are NOT TAKING CONTR-"_

"Ahhhh! Ahhhh… Graaaaawwwrrrrr!"

Everything surged in a wave – the perfect storm rolled in. It overtook everything, washing away even the deepest of Mark's intentions under its ferocity. A monsoon whipped up inside his mental landscape, obliterating everything in its path until finally, bathed in the iciest depths of torment, there rose another man from the ashes. Not quite the same but not entirely different, all this one wanted was to hurt.

Kane ran a sweaty hand through his messy hair of chestnut brown. Everything in its eternity looked and felt disgusting. The very sight of this room, this house, the curvaceous alien vixen standing just a few feet away, they filled his core with a revulsion so deep that he couldn't stand it.

A shallow, broken laugh ripped free from his lips, his hands moving on their own accourd - tossing his weapon over the balcony. It thumped upon the ground below, the sound dancing across the walls until finally, it fell empty and dead. It was time to focus on the main event once more – Celeste.

Purest ruby overtook Mark's eyes. Everything remained one violent shade of sameness – it was as if somebody had stained his sight. Bringing up his fists once again, Mister Kane took a pair of slow, refined steps forward, cracking his neck from side to side as he fell into a sturdy stance.

"I'm going to reach into your chest… and see what color your heart is when I pluck it out. I assume that will be enough to silence the endless smugness from your whore mouth, won't it Celeste?"

The last thing he was expecting was for her to slip back several steps. In fact, it was the first time he'd seen the blue lady, in all of her splendour, display an emotion akin to that of fright. She held fast, keeping a strict distance as she placed a hand upon her chest.

"Oh dear," she sighed, rolling her eyes in dissatisfaction. "It would seem that the symbiont has begun to meld with your brain and nervous system. Essentially, that should not be possible… However, it would seem that I miscalculated."

Did she ever stop yapping on in that tone of alien nonsense? Mark snarled with vicious abandon, stepping forward to close the gap yet again. His blood spoke to him in cries of hunger – it wished to be sated. "Would you shut up already?! Stop your monologue and come over here! I wish to finish this."

Celeste nodded – stepping forward with her palms outstretched. Was her stance supposed to represent some kind of otherworldly style of martial art? Not that it mattered anyway, she'd be dead soon – Mark was going to make damn sure of it.

"Come forth." Miss Luvendass beckoned with a wave of her hand, "If a fight is what you want… then you shall get it, human."

There was no reason to wait any longer. Breathing hard, the prodigy moved on two powerful feet, speeding forward on the attack. It didn't hurt to move all of the sudden.

' _Not that it matters now…. I feel good… like there's a whole new side of me coming to life that I never even knew about. It's hungry… it's screeching at me to be placated… and it is not going to stop until I stomp this blue fiend into the ground. Yes… I like the sound of that…. I'm going to rip her shapely body limb from limb.'_

Mark crashed headlong into Celeste's chest – the sheer force of the attack sending her partway across the room. He stood and watched in bliss as she rolled like a barrel and thumped against a table at the far end of the hall. There was something truly beautiful about seeing her flop like a ragdoll – it made his inner demon squeal with delight.

"This is far worse than I thought," Celeste wheezed as a shiny blue liquid seeped from the corners of her mouth. Her legs shuddered as she slowly clambered upright. "I should never have injected you with the bio-weapon. It is tapping into your biology, enhancing your functionality as it subtly rewrites your genetic coding."

Enough was enough – Mark stopped just short of the Celeste – reaching out and yanking her upward by the locks of her hair. Despite her build and size, his findings were most intriguing. She was almost as light as a paperweight - and she cried out almost musically when she felt pain.

_'That's it... squirm...'_

"Let's finish this." A clenched fist was all that it would take to end this at last. Enthralled under the delightful grip of sadistic madness, Kane prepared to land the finishing blow. A cold, maniacal laugh thumped from the pit of his vocal cords. "You've turned my life upside down. About time I-"

* * *

***THUMP!***

Blackness throbbed in tandem with a wave of deepest pain - like glass scratching against the skin. Everything felt sharp, prickly, and just as quickly as the sensation had started, it was gone. A huge shard of jagged blue, its form glowing with crystalloid light, punched into Mark's chest. He chocked and wretched, his lungs panicked as they flailed in an attempt to find air.

His feet staggered, the heat rising to wash over his body until finally, everything fell into purest darkness. The gift of deepest heat fell cold just seconds later, until finally, Mark could only discern one thing. Something soft, like the embrace of an angel, rested against his cheek.

By the time his vision came back it was too late to do anything. With shuddering fingers the defeated heir scratched and clawed his way across the carpet, dragging his body along to try and grab for Celeste's foot. She giggled, a sound knew well, and pressed the side of her muddied shoe against his chin, bringing his head upward so that he could stare into her powerful eyes.

"You've been partially paralyzed by a Novarian heat crystal. It's lucky I kept one in my arsenal for emergencies. It should also bring the influence of the symbiont to heel once you wake up from the micro-coma it will shortly induce. Now then Mister Kane…."

Miss Luvendass bent down, slipping her hand into the confines of his pocket. There her fingers wriggled and explored for many a moment, until finally, they squeezed around the phone he kept therein, and pulled it free.

Her leer of orange marvelled at the smartphone with almost childlike awe – as she poked at the buttons with a stark innocence. "I'll be taking this from you. It is my understanding that you humans keep in contact through primitive cellular technology the likes of which have long since become obsolete in civilized worlds."

Through a snarl of pain, Mark let his displeasure go free. "Once I get free of this I'm going to pull you head off and feed it to my dogs! I swear it… you're dead for crossing me."

"Yes, yes, now hush," the alien beauty smiled softly, turning her back and walking away. "Once you wake up you'll be your normal self again. In the meantime… I shall track down Momo through different means. I can already tell through your thought patterns that you have hidden her from me. I know not where she is… but one name keeps repeating over and over in your mind… 'Mike'."

Celeste took slow steps in the direction of an open window at the far side of the hall – casually sidestepping the immobilized Markus as she went. Her footsteps mocked his fury and they berated his rage. Oh how he wanted to end her for this!

"It is my assumption that if I reverse the cellular device then I will be able to draw up a map of last known locations of this 'Mike' individual. If I find him, then I imagine Momo will not be far away."

Turning around once last time, the gorgeous blue girl gave a gentle bow of respect. " _Zen Vetall Kor Nitral Esto Kai Yous._ Until we meet again, Markus Kane. As always, it is refreshing to have a quarry that provides so much enjoyment in its hunt. I do you hope your friend proves to be the same."

Not another word was said – Celeste gave a playful wink and leapt with open arms out of the window. Once again Markus could feel the sting of humiliation, not in the last dulled by the grip of blood-lusting madness. He'd failed, and once again, Miss Luvendass was a step ahead in their deadly game of cat and mouse.

A powerful shudder ran rampant, ripping its way through the nerves and systematically snapping the senses like powerlines in a storm. Every breath, every thought, was aimed toward keeping his mind plugged in. Unfortunately, the pain was too much, even in this state of mind.

Sighing in exhaustion, Mark allowed his head to rest against the carpets embrace, "This isn't over…. I won't let you defeat me like this, Celeste…."

**To be continued….**


	8. Integrity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready for another Alien Problems chapter? I know it's been a couple of months since the last update. There's a very good reason for that. I've actually been working on two chapters for the story. The next one should be ready in a couple of days. For this chapter only we're rolling from Mike's perspective. You'll see why. Please enjoy the read!

Days upon days on the run from an unknown enemy. His intent above all else was to fulfil a promise to his most trusted friend - to keep Momo safe from harm until this extra-terrestrial enemy decided to cease her pursuit. However, if the story flashing up on the evening news was anything to go by, then it seemed as though the attacker was still at large. Whoever this 'Celeste' was – she meant serious business.

Mike Winters breathed a sigh of exhaustion, flopping into a discarded chair. He couldn't pull his attention away from the news bulletin no matter how hard he tried. The sight of the Kane estate surrounded by ambulances and riddled with holes was the last thing he expected to see.

' _This is Christie Carmen reporting live for Glenberry news. I'm here in Eaglewood today as a freak attack on the family home of Kane Industries CEO Joseph Jonathan Kane has taken the local community by storm. While rumours regarding the attack range from anything as wild as gang activity to the actions of hitmen, little has been released concerning the happenings. However, one thing is certain, son and Heir to the company, Markus Kane, has been reported missing by household staff. More on this story as it unfolds.'_

A flick of the remote cut the television off. Winters sighed, running a hand through his smooth blonde hair before exhaling a nervous breath. "So your plan to stop her didn't work…. Where does that leave us now, Mark? I'm in the dark here…."

In the dark was right – both literally and figuratively. The open road brought with it the best chance of evading the dreaded alien foe. A small roadside motel on the I40 stretch between Glenberry and Eaglewood City was the best he could do. It was both secluded and yet close enough to the immunities of a truck stop for all the essentials.

"So what am I supposed to do now?"

Mike stopped in front of the bedroom mirror – eying his features, the dark rings beneath his eyes and the creases in his shirt. He'd been on the road, moving Momo from place to place for a couple of weeks now.

"I can't get into contact with Markus and he can't call me either. His house is fucked… he's missing…. If she were a regular girl I'd leave her with the police for her own protection, but she's not…."

The thought of leaving half-cat under the protection of small-town cops and running for the hills didn't sit right. Not only would they mistreat her, they'd likely ship her off to some government lab to be poked and prodded at with sharp objects, a fate undeserving of such an innocent young woman.

No kidding, as she lay sleeping on her little sofa bed across the room, the washed-up musician couldn't help but shake his head in disbelief. "First fairies, then aliens, and now magical creatures with animal traits. What the fuck is this world coming to?"

He moved across the room on tiptoes, reaching over to cover Momo's shoulders with a blanket. There he sat at her side for a while, pondering where in the world she'd come from.

"I can see why he cares about you. In the time we've been traveling together you've been nothing but kind to me. Not to mention you've trusted me entirely. Hmph… being honest… it only makes me want to protect you even more, Momo."

"Nya," the cat girl purred in her sleep, turning over and pulling the sheet closer to her body. "Mister Mike," she called out, treating him to a flash of her innocent golden leer, "Are you okay?"

Momo rubbed her eyes, sitting upright a sleepy little yawn, "You look so tired. Momo hope's she isn't being a bother staying with you like this."

"No, you're not a problem at all," he answered kindly, patting her on the head and moving across to sit on the edge of the bed again. The drab, washed out scenery of the motel room - its grimy surfaces and peeling wallpaper only dropped his mood further.

"I'm just worried about Mark, that's all." There was no sense in lying, especially after all the two of them had gone through since the college days. "Momo…. Can I ask you something?"

"Meow?"

She sprang up with feline energy – sititng beside him with a soft smile. "Ask away, Mister Mike. If Momo knows the answer she'll be happy to help you."

"Do you," Winters paused, taking stock of his thoughts, "Do you remember anything about where you came from? We talked about the woman that's coming to get you…. Do you have any memories? Do you know why she's looking for you?"

"No… sorry," she answered, ears drooping, "Momo already told you everything she knows. All she remembers is a hazy picture in her head. A big silver box with flashing lights. There were all of these loud noises… like sirens… and after that; Momo woke up in the park. That's where she met Markus. If a bad woman's coming to get me… then I don't know why."

Just as he'd thought. She was telling the truth after all. There wasn't anything else she could recall about the past – no information that could be used to draw a better picture of the person they were up against. Then again, Mark's struggles painted as accurate an image as any.

"Fair enough. I'm not gonna push the point if you don't have anything useful. Forget I asked. Why not rest a while longer? I'm about to head out and grab something to eat. You want anything from the store?"

Momo nodded – eyes glowing brightly over the concept of food. "Yes please," she answered with glee, "Can I have some noodles? Momo likes cup noodles! Mark makes them for me when he comes home from work sometimes…."

"No problem." Mike got up and reached over for the room key – sliding it into the pocket of his crumpled pants. "I shouldn't be more than an hour tops. Lock the door and don't open it until I'm back, alright?"

"Nya," she cheered enthusiastically, prancing across the room with kitty grace to snatch the television remote. Plopping her behind in the chair beside the tube television, Momo started flicking through the channels, finally settling on the animal network. "I'll be good while you're gone. Don't worry Mister Mike. Momo's going to watch the puppies on TV. Puppies make me happy."

Talk about irony – a cat that liked puppies. Then again, it wasn't anywhere near as strange as the large aquarium at the back of Mark's apartment. She didn't like to eat fish and she enjoyed the sight of small dogs, especially the toy breeds. Bizarre. As bizarre as her unknown origins.

"Okay," Mikey made for the door, buttoning his shirt, "I'm heading o-"

A surge of light pushed the appliances to the limit, the sudden intensity of it causing the blond musician to flinch. One by the lightbulbs exploded in a disjointed melody, the television bursting last in a vibrant shower of glass. Momo yelped, clinging to the chair. Her tail stood bolt upright with a violent hiss.

Something felt very wrong. A thunderous rapture of beats pushed Mike's heart to the limit, feet rooted to the floor in unease.

"What happened to the p-"

There came a sound from behind the door – slow rhythmic tapping snapping Winters from his thoughts. Eyes wide, he stared onward, sucking in air.

"Excuse me hum- I mean, sir. This is the building manager. We have experienced a sudden surge of power and I would like to ensure that no harm has befallen you."

The voice from outside sounded so strange – almost robotic. Breathing deep, the musician took slow, measured footsteps closer, reaching out and wrapping his digits around the handle. "That was awfully fast," he called back, "The lights only want out about t-"

A loud bang shook everything to the core – followed by an impossibly bright flash of light. It pierced the cone of his vision, sending everything into a shade of transcendent white. His every sense flared in warning, his legs tumbling backward as he collided with the carpet.

* * *

Blue – the colour blue took precedence. A tall, curvaceous figure, with hair as white as a snow angel towered above him, gazing downward with eyes of powerful orange. Horns poked out of the sides of her head. His mind dared not comprehended what he was seeing at first. It was the impending revelation that brought everything back into perspective.

' _Human girls don't have blue skin….'_

"Greetings, human. I believe your name is Mike, correct? Forgive me…. But I am afraid I must incapacitate you now."

She was here. There was no time to lose! Winters rolled back, narrowly missing an incoming foot on-route to his face. Jumping upright, he slid across the carpet, holding his arms out wide to shield a cowering Momo from harm.

Still trapped somewhere between a rush of adrenaline and disbelief, Mike shook his head to clear the muddled flurry of his thoughts, tired eyes of green connecting with those of the unearthly female. Interesting, life beyond the stars sure looked far more beautiful than he'd thought it would. She only had one head, a shapely, beautiful body squeezed into a tight latex suit, and she sure didn't spew acid from her mouth.

"Celeste," he breathed stiffly, fists held upright in defence of his whimpering feline charge, "Mark warned me you might come looking. You're not having the girl."

The alien bounty hunter gave an unnerving giggle, hips wiggling as she took a couple of small, calculating steps closer. She brought one of her bluish hands upward, caressing the side of her face with it, flipping back her icy locks.

"It would seem that you are taking the concept of my existence very well. I am pleasantly surprised. I had expected you to run in fear at the sight of life from another planet. This is a most 'curious' development indeed."

Mike smirked, fists clenched tight into balls of fury, "Once you've dealt with a fairy you're just about ready for anything. Does it look like I'm about to turn and run? Not a chance. This can go one of two ways."

Time to set the ground rules. Pushing the fear he felt to the pit of his stomach, he stepped closer to meet his otherworldly enemy with a smooth flash of his green eyes. He didn't know if it would amount to anything, but he surrendered to his inner potential all the same, the powerful blue of Talent pooling from his body.

"Turn around and walk away, for your own good. Even if you can beat me… it'll only make Mark come at you twice as hard. He sure doesn't take kindly to his friends being thrown in harm's way."

Not a word – not even a breath. Celeste remained stoic – yet her eyes seemed even brighter than before – as though the flames of purest hell burned within. "Fascinating," she commented, leaning closer to examine, "The strange aura which resonates from your body…. I have not seen such a thing before. Does it amplify your natural attributes perhaps? It would be most enjoyable if you would let me splice your genetics and find out."

"So you can see it," the singer wedged his feet into the ground for support, not budging an inch in the wake of their standoff. "You're the first one outside of Kyu that can. Now… if you want Momo you'll have to go through me…"

Sharp words – perhaps they would appease the alien's fascinations, perhaps not. He didn't care, his job was simple. The frightened cat behind him needed a protector, and he'd promised Mister Kane he'd do just that.

Celeste smiled – the look of anticipation all too obvious across her pristine features. A bow symbolized her intent to do battle.

"In truth I was hoping you would say that. I fail to understand the bond of honor that you Terrans share. However, it is a concept that has garnered my attention. If you wish to stand your ground then you are welcome to do so. Be warned however, human… I will allow you the first strike, purely out of curiosity. Beyond that… I will not use restraint."

"Fine." Mikey looked back, giving Momo a nod of assurance to try and calm her, "Stay behind me, alright? If anything goes wrong… run…."

"M- Mister Mike," Momo called out with fright, "D- don't fight her. She's dangerous... Momo doesn't know why, but she can feel it..."

It wasn't as simple as the innocent kitty made out. There was no way they'd be allowed to walk out unharmed.

"No can do, Momo. You'll have to trust me. I'll do my best for ya... That's a promise."

Mikey didn't waste a second beyond that. Focused and back in the game, he came forward on a pair of agile legs, and grabbed Celeste by the shoulders. The surprise in her eyes rang out clearly as a bell on a quiet Sunday morning. "Fair warning... I don't like to hurt people - but I figure you plan to do some nasty shit to this poor girl behind me. That changes things."

With unforgiving haste, the blonde's hand whipped outward, gripping Celeste by the arm – twisting it behind her back with unforgiving strength. Bringing all of his energy to focus on his offhand, he sent the knuckled ball of his fist sailing outward in the direction of the blue vixen's stomach.

***THUMP!***

Celeste wretched hard and toppled back as Mike released her limb – eying her as she kneeled, gasping for many a breath. "If anything happens to her I'll never be able to look Mark in the eye again. I owe him more than I could hope to repay. Doesn't matter you're an alien... I've broken too many promises in the past to start doing it again."

"I am impressed by your unusual form of combat."

Celeste looked up through orange orbs yet again, coming to her feet in a blur of impossible speed. "You do not fight in the typical manner of your species. Terran combatants usually employ an array of orthodox techniques bound by a tight set of your Earth regulations. You however, Mike Andrew Winters, prefer style and showmanship to discipline. A representation of your true nature perhaps?"

Something about her words got under his skin. An ember of fire rose up, escaping as a growl, "Your point?"

"Why attempt to reach for my arm when you could easily grasp my throat? In a single movement, I have gained an insight into your personality. You are holding back for fear of causing me harm. Why is that? Furthermore, the rate of your heartbeat increased when you and I made physical contact..."

She vanished in a wisp – reappearing in a distorted soundwave to the side. There she stayed, sat upon the edge of the bed, one leg folded over the other. "My full name is Celeste of clan Luvendass…. I am a professional, and you will not best me on this day."

Gone again – this time so fast that even the blur had a blur. Mike breathed out with shaky hands, a cold chill running up the base of his spine as fingers clenched dug into his shoulder. A giggle rang out in haunting resonance . "I am behind you."

A pain beyond the likes of anything he'd ever experienced raged throughout his body with absolute impunity. Warning sirens flared across every nerve, every fibre of the blonde's being. He staggered, the feeling of sharpness like a blade slashing into his side. It hurt – it hurt to think – it hurt to breathe.

Something was inside his body, twisting around.

"I'm not," the taste of copper filled Mike's mouth. The color red spilled out from his lips and soaked his shirt. "I'm not… I'm-"

An endless stream of thoughts raced through his mind in filtered gray. The past, hopes and dreams for the future. His family, his friends, Mark, Kyanna, Nora, people he'd never see again if he didn't stand up for the promise he'd made. He couldn't give in. No matter how much his body wanted to collapse – surrender wasn't an option.

"I'M NOT LETTING YOU TAKE HER!"

' _Go get her, Tiger….'_

Blue enveloped everything – a wave of illumination so bright that it swept across the room in awe-inspiring grandiosity. Mike didn't need to see Celeste – he could sense her. Awash with pain and determination, he reached back, plucked her by the neck, and slung her over his shoulder!

***SMASH***

She went crashing through the bed in a hail of springs and splinters. Stunned, blindsided, in total awe, she laid still, her expression overtaken with horrified amazement. A glowing spectre of Talent started into her eyes, picking her up yet again, and tossing her as if she weighed nothing.

Mike watched through distorted aqua-stained eyes as the alien lifeform rolled across the carpet, thumping against the mirror with enough force to shatter the glass in a spray of jagged chunks. A strange purple fluid leaked from the corners of her mouth. Every moment, from the attempts she made to stand to her attempts to walk across the expanse of the room seemed horribly slow.

"A unexpected but satisfactory outcome," Celeste hacked, clambering upright and holding her side. From the belt at her hip, she pulled a shiny syringe with glowing buttons, stabbing it into the side of her neck with a low, wanton sigh.

" _Adrenal pain suppression administered."_

"Regardless," she chuckled eerily, a hand resting across her bloodied mouth in a delicate showing of tact, "The poison from the Tendricidian sabre I stabbed you with should be coming into effect in approximately three… two… one…"

Coldness like a snowstorm flooded Mike's veins – forcing him to the ground in an exquisite cry of discomfort. His aura of talented flare flickered on and off like a lightbulb until finally, he fell to his knees, entire body shaking like a leaf hurricane.

"What d-d-d did you d-"

"Shhhhh," Miss Luvendass silenced him with a finger upon his lips, flicking back the hair from her sweat-glistened forehead, rubbing her left side horn in what Mike could only think was affectionately against the side of his cheek.

"It is over…. Accept your loss. I know not what strange power drove you to fight on, but regardless… I am grateful for this short but passionate bout. Please Mike… tell me. What happened to cause your body to overload in such a manner?"

Mike's lips curved into that of a smile, his head slumping exhaustedly against the warmth of the alien girl's shoulder, "You believe in magic?"

"Such a word is one that I can not comprehend. Is this 'magic' you speak of a close approximation to science?"

The room was going dark. Each second brought with it a struggle just to stay afloat. Mike's internal sea felt frozen. "...Figures you wouldn't get it."

He coughed, faint and shallow. It was impossible to fight any longer. In one last breath, he clutched Celeste's shoulders, "Sorry Mark," he whispered softly, "Looks like I fucked up…."

In the all-consuming blackness, Mike Winters danced like a candle flame. Winds blew with otherworldly vigour, threatening to blow him out. "Y- you win, Celeste… J-just… don't hurt Momo…. She's done nothing wrong…."

"Worry not, human. You are _both_ coming with me. I require you alive… for the moment. I believe you have earned such a privilege. _Shii sevaseran lotsi kai ten yo….."_

The candlelight grew weaker with every moment.

For the faintest moment he was sure he could feel a softness upon the side of his face. Opening his fading eyesight brought about the picture of soft blue fingertips touching his cheek with tenderness.

" _Saay yo tanset kii._ A good fight… I see why he trusted the protection of the Nekorian to you."

There was nothing left to keep his senses alight. Exhaling softly, Winters felt his body surrender. The last thing he heard was the sound of a gentle beating heart.

' _It's up to you now, Mark…. I did my best….'_

**To be continued….**


	9. Alien and Patriarch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE - I've been strapped for time this past week. That said, this chapter hasn't been given the usual second proof reading. There might still be a few minor mistakes I missed, so please be patient while I get around to polishing things. For now however, let us begin!

The low light of a screen sliced through darkness – basking a small, empty room in the eerie glow of flickering blue. Vibration broke the silence with harshness – a sleek and stylish cellular device threatening to roll of a dirtied, dust-encrusted table.

A message at this hour? No, perhaps it was a voicemail instead. At this point, there was no telling. Bedsheets rustled amidst a pained ritual of movement, and letting out a slow, bloodied cough, an exhausted, battered survivor reached out to grab his phone.

"At least he remembers the number of my emergency phone. That in and of itself is a blessing at a time such as this."

Swiping his thumb across the screen, Markus Kane honed in on the LED display with faded sapphires – letting out another dry cough. "Mike's number…. I do hope he brings good news."

A video message, one at least a couple of days old when considering the date. What did he have to say? Were he and Momo safe?

Pangs of nervy unease crawled around in the broken prodigy's stomach. Their swaying, swishing ferocity proved almost enough to bring the bile from the pit of his core. No matter how hard he tried, it was impossible to forget the final grim warning that Celeste left him with during the closure of their last encounter.

"She intends to find Momo no matter what it takes."

The smug look on her face – her superiority complex, and worst of all, the jarring laugh she gave as destruction rained in her path. By the gods, the blue-skinned alien beauty was most certainly an agent of destruction. Her dedication was frightful.

Mark breathed deep in order to inflate his stiff, aching lungs. Something deep down at his core, perhaps a feeling he wanted to deny, told him that whatever sat waiting for him in this message was to be cause for concern.

Prepared, steeled as best he could be – his finger pressed against the 'play' icon in the middle of the screen. "It begins."

Powerful white in the form of static crackled – making his already worn out eyes ache without the protection of sunglasses. When it cleared, his unease and fury danced with flames of duality, meeting at the centre of his being to spark and rage as though a vicious abomination. Mark could not contain himself – the sight on screen proving far too much for his usually reserved personality to control. Blue skin, orange eyes and long, majestic horns – Celeste Luvendass stared him in the face like a haughty noble – one leg folded over the other as she sat in a levitating greenish-brown chair of some kind.

' _Greetings, Markus Kane. It would seem that once again I hold the upper hand in our battle of wits. However, I am at least impressed by the level of detail to which you planned. Employing the services of your friend to hide the Nekorian while you moved to draw me into a trap was impressive. Such a fine display of your backward Terran ingenuity. Regardless, all good things must eventually end. Listen with attentiveness – for this message is encrypted and will only play once.'_

The camera panned out – a long silvery chamber coming into sight with the beeping and humming of foreign machine sounds. Slowly but surely the image pulled back far enough to reveal a large cylinder of chrome and glass – a familiar figure stuffed inside – eyes closed – the viewing window frosted over with a sheet of ice.

There she was – the woman he cared about, innocent and defenceless despite his best efforts. Celeste's ghostly laugh echoed across the recording before her face came back into view.

"Momo…." Mark's fingers squeezed around the edges of his phone – his blood screeching with violence. This wasn't good. The being inside his body squirmed and burned – crying out to feed on everything that made him human.

' _It is my intent to keep the Nekorian codenamed 'Momo' in cryogenic sleep until I receive the order from my superiors to commence her liquidation. If you wish to try to rescue her then you are more than welcome. My ship is hidden under stealth camouflage on the yellowy coastline where we first met. In fact, I encourage you to stage a rescue attempt. If the sight of your Nekorian lover is not enough then I shall offer additional encouragement. The human known as 'Mike' wishes to speak with you. I have matters I must attend to now. Savour the contents of this message…. Depending on your actions it might be the last time you see your friends.'_

Miss Luvendass evaporated in a blinding beam of red and white, giving a frightful giggle. The phone tumbled to the floor with a thump. The camera glared upward at a pristine metallic ceiling of silvery illuminations and bleeping blue-yellow sequin icons. A loud hum, as if the signal of something powering down sounded across the recording. Sluggish feet clanged against metal - in tow with ragged gasps for air.

A familiar face came into view of the screen – picking up the phone and staring onward with bloodshot, worn eyes. Mike – thank goodness, he was alive. Though his clothes were torn and his chest covered in bandages. Dried reddish fluid stuck around the corners of his mouth. To say he appeared badly injured was putting it mildly.

Running a shuddering hand through his dirtied peroxide hair, the battered singer breathed an exhausted sigh:

_'Sorry, man. I did all I could but she was too much. Momo's still alright… but I dunno for how long. It's weird…. For some fucked up reason this crazy 'Celeste' chick's actually being nice to me – even fixed up my wounds and injected me with painkillers. Look... she's teleported out of the room for now so it's the only chance I've got. You're smart, Mark…. You know it's a trap…. She's waiting for you…. Don't do it. I'm trying to figure out a way to crack that weird pod and wake up Momo. For now, stay away from Turtle Bay…. STAY AWA-'_

Another burst of static overtook the recording – ending the message.

"Damn it all. Once again, she has me backed into a corner with little in the way options. What am I to do n-"

No sooner than Mark started speaking did another vibration erupt from the phone between his digits. He breathed out. No doubt, it was another message from Celeste to taunt him. Wait. No! It wasn't.

"The number listed here is…. No. This cannot be right. In fact, how does he even have my number to establish contact? He makes his presence known at the worst possible time, as always."

Flicking the screen again, Mark examined the message with utmost scrutiny. There was no way he could afford to misconstrue even a single syllable of this text.

' _Markus. I believe it is time that we convened to discuss recent events. I shall not take no for an answer in this instance – not unless you wish to be escorted by force. You are to meet me at the Nevada in Eaglewood tomorrow evening. Dress in smart attire. A social event is being held at the venue. Do not keep me waiting, or I will send Miss Carla to collect you. Once again it seems you are an ever-present stain upon this family.'_

This was the last straw. Mark couldn't take it anymore. Overcome with bubbling anger, he tossed the phone across the room, fists clenched so tightly that his veins bulged. The creature within screamed in delight – its burning desire on the verge of wrestling control once again.

Narrowly escaping the grip of madness, eyes glowing bloody and red, Mister Kane bit down on his tongue – the sharpness of such pain thankfully proving enough to force a howl of discomfort from the symbiont within.

"Father," he whispered, twisted bluish-red eyes staring down at the discarded phone on the dusty floor, "Once again it would seem we are going to cross paths. I will no doubt regret this… and yet I wonder. Is there perhaps a way I could make our meeting play out in my favour?"

The clock was ticking. Momo and Mike were in danger. If he were to hunt down Celeste in one final showdown he'd need all of the resources he could muster – no matter how dirtied or morally gray they were.

"Though I hate it… I've little choice at this point."

Reaching out, the fallen prodigy fished around in the dark, his fingers basking in the tactile sensation of an unknown object. Bringing it closer, with a tiny slither of light from the bedside window giving the aid he required, Markus took note of the item. A silver cigarette case. His backup card against the odds.

"Oh Celeste…. How I loathe and admire your tenacity at the same time. You indeed the deadliest foe I have ever faced."

* * *

The patriarch – a man he'd hoped and prayed to avoid for a very long time. However, fate, or perhaps a rather sternly written warning had delivered him to this place. The family estate stood in ruins, and countless members of the housekeeping staff lay bandaged and broken in the hospital. Indeed, it was no surprise that the man in charge demanded answers on pain of harsh reprimand.

A black sports car screeched to a stop at the side of the road, the driver's side door swinging open. With shined shoes and an elegant suit, Markus Kane came one step closer to his judgement. Pausing, he took a moment to check his attire was suitable enough for his lordship.

The chestnut hair held slick with gel, not to mention his pants were flawlessly ironed, his long, formal coat draped over the ensemble to provide a look of professionalism. His eyes, marked and darkened by many a sleepless night, took refuge behind an expensive pair of Rayban's – custom, of course.

"As ready as I'll ever be. Hold fast, Markus. This might well be your only opportunity to justify what has recently transpired."

How was one supposed to explain the existence of advanced alien life? How was one supposed to explain the merciless bounty hunter that clung to his shadow like an insidious beast? This would not be easy.

Before him there spun out an array of wide neon lights – beaming as though beacons for the building at their behest. Three stories tall, red carpets, flashy yet elegant signposts, and of course – a swath of suit clad door attendant with flashing blue earpieces.

"The Navada. One of the smaller nightclubs under the ownership of my family's wide reach. I did not think I'd step foot within its wretched halls upon my next trip to Eaglewood. Very well… let us get this charade over with."

Off the sidewalk and across the crushed red carpets. The prodigy found his passage blocked by a pair of tall gentlemen, one of them holding something akin to a weapon scanner – the other keeping Kane in place with a stern hand upon the shoulder.

"No entry without a permit. Tonight is host to a Kane Industries social event. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to-"

Mark slipped a hand into the pocket of his coat. No doubt, he'd have to appease these hired goon's of his father. He brought out a laminated membership card, giving a small, frugal smile to those who barred entry. "Step aside if you would, gentleman. My father has requested I come here to discuss family matters of importance."

It took them both but a second to get a glance of the details upon the identification card. A mere second longer and they both shrank away to the side-lines, accusing glares reduced to empty apologies.

"Forgive me, Mister Kane. We're simply following protocol, you understand. Go ahead; your father awaits your arrival. He's in the Verna Lounge on the second floor. Please, have a good evening."

It was highly unlikely anything 'good' would come out of tonight – of that much he was certain. Without as much as a response, he stepped past the yes men, taking his final steps into the abyss.

* * *

Smooth neon reds and greens swept across a wide dancefloor. Men and woman in artistic attire, fine suits and dresses, faces obscured by ballroom masks, danced and swayed. Dotted across the surroundings were tiny blue flickers against the dancefloor lights. More security, these ones visibly armed and communicating back and forth with fingers pressed against ears. A quick headcount gave all the answers Mark needed.

"There's over a dozen of them down here… no wonder. Father in all of his egotistical grandeur would've seen the attack on the house as some form of challenge. An attempt on his life under the guise of corporate sabotage."

Automatic weapons came into view – alongside a trio of men in open coats – bulletproof vests plainly on show. One of them stood at the forefront, half of his face hidden behind the shield of a twisted, chilling phantom of the opera mask.

"Mister Kane," he began, lowering his weapon to stand at ease, propped up against a marble pillar, "We've been given instructions to escort you to Master Joseph… and of course, confiscate any weapons you may be carrying until you leave the premises."

How unbelievably predictable for the man who raised him. No quarter, no special treatment. He'd be stripped of his protection and subject to the same checks as everybody else. No doubt if his younger sister were here, she'd walk past all of the security carrying a large knife and nobody would bat an eyelid.

' _No. This isn't for the purpose of security. It is because he is frustrated toward me for bringing my personal issues into the family home. This is a warning – his is intent on setting the ground rules before our discussion even transpires.'_

There was no choice but to comply with the instructions. Rolling his eyes, Mark took off his coat, unclipped the weapon belt from around his waist, and surrendered the forty-five automatic and the knife in his possession.

"Okay, gentleman. Lead the way. Heaven forbid that we keep him waiting when he sent you to so kindly collect me."

Alas, flanked by armed guards, Mark was escorted through the crowds to a polished silver elevator at the back of the wide-open hall. The twisting light effects and loud music only served to make his subtle unease all the more noticeable.

' _Once again I find myself at the behest of the patriarch. However, this time around I am more than intent on delivering my own terms. I won't allow this to play out in the same way as our last encounter.'_

Yes – this time he would be the one who put his cards on the table. He'd brought the extra edge he needed, and just the right amount of incentive. Fights against Celeste made even the most unassailable mountain seem like a breeze.

* * *

Here he was – stood face to face yet again. A man of impressive stature, body built solid yet refined like an old, mighty tree – hair of greyish brown held in place by a precise concoction of products. His shirt? Unbuttoned. Shoes? Neatly tied and pristinely polished. The weight of his expression spoke volumes – both cold and calculating. His eyes of ocean blue were dark, deep, and suffocating. All who stood in his presence did so in silence, usually out of awe, fear, or both.

Joseph Jonathan Kane – one of the two heads of household. The man who had controlled his life for twenty-four long years. No distance was far enough, no venom held enough potency to describe how the lord and master made Markus feel.

"Markus," he spoke. Never before had a tone held such a coolness, such passive animosity. "Seat yourself. It seems we have a lot to discuss – and I'll be damned. My security team had plenty of important things to tell me as I was escorted onto a Tropica Airlines flight and rushed back from my conference."

"Pray tell, son," Joseph continued, taking cigar from a silver case upon the table, one of his personal aids rushing over to light it. "I have not heard from you in more than twelve months. Yet the strangest thing has happened."

The master took a hearty drag – blowing perfect rings of smoke across the seating area.

"You arrive unannounced at the estate. You then proceed to turn the place into something akin to that of a fortress, claiming that your life is in danger. Lo and behold, two nights pass, and the next thing I know… my home… the home of our forbears… is in ruins. Worse still, my entire household security staff save three men have been hospitalized."

Mark reached out, taking a glass of champagne from one of the serving girls with a nod of thanks. A sip revealed his suspicions. Champagne – the finest. Of course.

"Please cut to the chase, father," Mark addressed the patriarch with a stern expression, sunglasses tilted to steal a glance at the man's frightfully cool stare. "If you have called me here to justify my actions then I too have something I must ask."

"Very well," Joseph took another hearty hit of nicotine, leaning back into the arms of his opulent leather armchair. His eyes narrowed, going from an abyss of depth to a raging wave of icy focus. "Explain. Explain now and explain well. Only then will I deem you worthy of a question."

There was no way in the world to rationalize or justify the existence of his alien predator. No – Instead, he'd have to speak a language that his family – the tongue of murky corporate dealings.

"Criminals, father. Organized gang activity. They sought to abduct me for their personal gain – to ransom me back to you for a price. I came to the estate to ensure my own protection. I can only assume they sent a professional to infiltrate the grounds and take me by force."

A laugh – vile with venom and bitterness echoed across the length and breadth of the room – melding with the background music to create an almost haunting melody. Joseph took the cigar from his mouth, stubbed it out in a wide, ivory ashtray, and leaned forward, fingers linked together.

"Then the answer is obvious, is it not?"

The master squeezed his digits together in a tight knot, a sour, hateful frown twisting his lips. "This is your problem, Markus Jonathan Kane. I expect you to deal with it. After all, was that not what you wanted? Do not tell me you expect handouts after you so rashly took your trust fund and walked away? Three years have not erased your betrayal. I have not forgotten."

"You expect me to deal with these people on my own?"

Mark was unsurprised – this was exactly the response he expected. "You're insinuating that I should use the money at my disposal to ki-"

"Silence," Joseph held out his hand with authority, "Speak not another word until I am finished. You are the cause of this issue – one that has cost me millions in repairs to our property. Now… you listen here you ungrateful fool. Make this issue a nonissue. Once you have done so I will use the appropriate channels to cause any sign of your involvement to disappear. Are we clear?"

Typical Kane family logic, the use of finance and political connections above the rule of law and order. Money made the world spin – and in this city and those surrounding it, Kane Industries had the power to make problems _disappear._

"What happens if I fail?" Mark took back the rest of his beverage with a sharp breath, motioning for another with a snap of his fingers. "What happens if the people of which I'm referring end up subduing me, or worse?"

The look on father's face was one of calculation – devoid of even the slightest shred of compassionate thought. He gave a faint, ghostly chuckle, reaching over for another cigar. "If anything unbecoming were to happen then I imagine that would make your sister Melody heir to the estate, now wouldn't it?"

"I thought as much," Mark stood from his seat, meeting his father's eyes with hatred. Two sets of blue lights sparked and crackled under the soft glow of halogen. "Very well, father. However, I do not intend for you to rid yourself of me so easily. I will of course be asking for something in return."

"Hah," Joseph smirked – scoffing in disdain as his assistant lit his smoke, "You've had all you're getting from me, boy. Was the three-hundred-thousand dollar trust fund and the sports car not enough? I assume you still have said finance. If so, then you will deal with this alone."

It was time to pull out the trump card. The younger Kane removed his shades, eying his father with deadly precision. He slid them into the pocket of his coat, and brought out the wide silver cigarette case. With a flick of the latch at the side, the lid popped open, revealing a pair of large, shiny coins of the same silvery hue.

"I invoke the right of our family tradition. If you will not assist me then I shall put you in a position that prevents your refusal. On the name of great grandfather Klein, I present you with a silver coin, and implore you to aid me on the honor of your name. Joseph Jonathan Kane."

"You calculating bastard." The sight of the overlord hissing like a snake brought satisfaction – of that there was no denial. "You intend to abuse our rite of passage to get what you want? This is the second time now, isn't it? You know the rules, Markus."

"Indeed I do."

The young prodigy took the coin from its protective case, and carefully slid it across the wide oaken table, smiling victoriously. "On the eve of their twenty-first each Kane child is granted three silver coins. Three unconditional requests of the family patriarchy that cannot be denied. I used the first to take my possessions and leave for Glenberry. Now I ask again for your aid."

"Very well," the elder Kane growled – fists clenched, damn near biting back complete fury. "You inconceivable moron. If you so wish to burn your only lifelines then so be it. What do you require from me, son?"

It was time to get serious – only then would Mark have the slightest chance of stopping Celeste before it was too late. "I require a cellular tracking device, one of your bulletproof escort vehicles, a high-grade ballistic vest, and a fully loaded sub-machinegun. Have them delivered to my address in Glenberry come tomorrow night. Then I shall resolve this issue I have."

"How very… direct." The scowl on Joseph's face curved into something close to a smile, though grey and unnerving in its intent. "You intend to deal with your problems using force instead of running for once? Now, for the first time in so very long… you are beginning to sound like the heir this family deserves."

"No, father," Mark shook his head abruptly, slipping the coin case back into his jacket. Turning his back, he made for the door, the security stepping aside to allow his exit from the room. Reaching for the handle, he sighed. "I shall never be the son you intended me to be – nor will I be the successor you require to keep our poisonous legacy alive."

* * *

Midnight in Mark's specious Glenberry studio apartment – and everything was far too quiet for his liking. Without Momo cheerfully humming songs to herself or tending to the aquarium it was almost painful in its stillness. Not to mention with Mike's subsequent 'vanishing' his duties as manager of a band and the social activities that came with it were moot. Two of the people he valued most were gone – robbed by an otherworldly hunter with unforgiving professionalism.

It was all beyond the joke, even for somebody of Mister Kane's background and upbringing. The cutthroat corporate obligations of his family paled in comparison to an adversary such as this. Flashing back, observing the past in a host of washed out pictures, he took stock of his dangerous enemy.

Celeste Luvendass. She'd bested him at every turn. Defeated him in hand to hand combat, infected his blood with a form of violent lifeform akin to a leech on his sanity, foiled and bested the traps he'd set out for her, and even gone so far as to destroy his home. Worse, throughout the entire experience she'd done little more than laugh and wiggle her curvaceous otherworldly behind.

"She mocks me…. She mocks our entire species with her interstellar superiority complex. Well I am at my wits end with her. She may have bested me countless times… but I draw the line at her hurting those whom I hold dear."

Pulling his lead-lined body from the couch, Mark stood upright with a stiff groan – turning the aquarium to marvel at the fish. They swam back and forth aimlessly in delicate twists and twirls of tropical color – totally oblivious to the larger world outside of their little tank – much like humanity.

"The gift of life is a precious one – and Celeste toys with it like a game. Well... She has underestimated the dedication of a Kane for the last time. I may be down… but I still have one final hand I can play."

The doorbell chimed several times – snapping Mark from his thoughts. Who was it at this hour? Wait! His memories flashed back to the hours beforehand: the Navada Club replaying in a hazy glimpse.

' _Have them delivered to my address in Glenberry come tomorrow night. Then I shall resolve this issue I have."_

Unbolting and pulling open the door brought with it the sight of a large metallic case – adorned in the Kane Industries logo, a chrome blue lion roaring proudly amidst the outline of a flawless sunset. Nodding to himself, convinced this was what he was looking for; Kane dragged the large case out of the hallway and pushed it into the alcove beside the doorway.

Cracking the locks one at a time, he took a moment to breathe, painstakingly prying off the lid. Eyes of blue widened in stunned reflection, taking note of the contents therein.

"Weapons… ammunition… tactical equipment… far more than I asked for. In fact… there is enough here to start a small war."

Reaching down, Mark wrapped his hands around the grip of a polished automatic weapon, sliding the strap over his shoulder and taking the armament in all of its weight and fearsome prowess into two firm hands. An MP5, fully prepared and with enough clips for many a reload.

He reached for one of the heavy magazines, slapping it in hard and taking aim with the attached laser sight, buzzing the thin red beam in the direction of the doorway. Eyes locked, he exhaled, bringing the weapon to rest at his side.

"Come tomorrow night, we finish this. I care not what you intend to do to me, Celeste. I shall stop you… and if you don't release Momo and Mike… _I will end you_."

**To be continued….**


	10. Final Battle - Part I

"In the years of my childhood I trusted the people I called family… the same people who now see fit to send me off to a fate beyond comprehension. There is little left for me in the way of time. Soon I'll be overtaken, but before that happens… I shall atone for my failures."

A car with tinted windows sped along the highway. It overtook traffic with unforgiving efficiency, surging toward its destination with due haste. A goal, a mission, innocent lives in the balance. Tonight was the night the oppression would end. The prodigy remembered every transgression dealt against himself and his closest companions. The moon would bare witness to retribution.

Markus Jonathan Kane breathed deeply, fingers knotted around the wheel, taking a sharp right at the intersection back toward Glenberry. His heart pounded with nervous adrenaline, his eyes, shielded with sunglasses, gazed though the rear-view mirror toward the stack of weaponry piled upon the back seat.

"A submachine gun, two handguns, military grade knives, an excess of additional supplies and equipment. Yet I still fear they will not be enough. It matters not…. I can feel it within… the symbiont screaming for control. I've not the luxury of unease tonight. If I am to fail… there will be no more chances."

Fear slithered within his stomach – a sickening, cancerous omen. Exhaling stiffly, doing all he could to supress the demon inside, Mark reached for the radio, turning over to the nearest station. A song he remembered well, one akin to the life of his poisonous family, graced his ears.

"How ironic…. I find myself edging closer toward oblivion, and here I'm reminded… tormented… by the past I'd much rather bury deep inside."

' _Well, you told me you were drowning. I've seen your face before my friend, but I don't know if you know who I am. Well I was there… I saw what you did. I saw it with my own two eyes. So you can wipe of that grin… I know where you've been. It's all been a pack of lies….'_

Down an empty, open road, one from which there would be no return. The unease, the uncertainty, the abhorrent stink of failure, Markus remembered it all so well. Four weeks had torn his very life asunder, and left him in a place of destitution. The fallen child of a family with nothing but hatred. One thing however, was beyond all certainty. A silent tear in his eye sang a requiem.

"Momo, my darling, and Mike… my most trustworthy friend… I've let you both down. I've allowed harm to befall the two of you... and I can only pray to the powers that be for your forgiveness. I shall not allow that deplorable blue harlot… _my nemesis_ , to cause you any further pain. On the shreds of honor I have left… I solemnly swear that I will bring you back safely."

He'd been anything but a malleable drone to the whims of his patriarch father, a shortcoming of which he was constantly reminded. Indeed, he'd done nothing but disappoint. With such a belief firmly in mind, the path ahead brought one of two options.

"Redemption or demise."

' _I can feel it… calling in the air tonight… oh lord. I've been waiting for this moment, all my life… oh lord! Well I remember! I remember… don't worry! But I know the reason why you keep this silence up. Oh no, you don't fool me The hurt doesn't show, but the pain still grows. It's no stranger to you and me!'_

The decisive moment was here at last. Pulling to a stop at the roadside, Markus swung open the driver's door, stepping out, clad in long black coat and adorned in a bulky defensive vest, into the cool evening air. In order to free those dear to him there was little choice but to walk headlong into the unknown.

"This is it. The door behind me has closed…."

* * *

The sands of Turtle Bay Beach crunched underfoot. An oddly unnerving silence permeated the air on this, the hour after midnight. Exhaling, his mind ablaze with wary thoughts, Markus looked across the yellowy expanse before him.

"Usually this place is full to the brim with students and partygoers… even on week nights. It is oddly devoid of people… Not a soul in sight."

Celeste must've been up to her old tricks again. Perhaps a trap or some kind of ruse to throw him off guard? Whatever the cause, the fallen prodigy had no intent of surrendering. If Miss Luvendass tried to interfere this time, she would meet her end.

"Tonight I hold the tricks up my sleeve. Alien technology at your disposal or not… I have something you will not see coming."

Reaching into the pocket of his coat, Mark produced a dark metal container of sorts, his long digits wrapped tightly around the edges. He flipped the cubic object on its side, eying a bluish-grey square that buzzed with purple light.

"Providing fingerprint recognition now."

His forefinger upon the small square brought the sound of a gentle ping, its volume bouncing in the night air before fizzling away. The light of blue twisted into solid green.

" _Access granted."_

The box talked back – the lid of the container popping open. Inside, between a solid padding cushion and a metallic rim, there sat a sleek wristwatch, its face chunky and rounded, coal-shaded with a reflective screen.

Taking the object from its place of storage, Markus unclasped the cold metal buckle at the back and slid it around his wrist, powering on the device with another press of the finger.

As if responding to his fingerprint, the high-tech timepiece rang out loudly, its sound akin to that of an olden computer start-up.

"Here goes nothing," Mark nodded, preparing for the moment ahead. "Activate voice recognition function. Fingerprint authorisation confirmed. Respond with artificial intelligence feedback one. Commencing in five seconds."

The object upon his wrist fell silent – its brightened screen readout dying. Was it working?

" _Audio pattern recognized. Identification number zero-point-one. Markus Jonathan Kane. Commencing artificial intelligence mounting in three… two… one. Functions… online!"_

A digital readout screen burst forth from the watch in a flashy holographic swirl, greeting Mark's eyes with the sight of many a different readout. Heartbeat, pulse, stress levels, proximity warnings. His entire biometric range spun out in a long, detailed list.

" _Greetings, Markus. I am a Kane Industries prototype Nano Watch – the latest in experimental field technology for the twenty-first century. Using the pinnacle of artificial intelligence software, I am here to provide you with tactical data and guidance in whatever endeavour you deem essential. For starters, please select your voice profile of choice. I have a multitude of personalized audio patterns – one of which I am sure you will find pleasing.'_

Scrolling through the list with his thumb – Mark didn't take long to find one. Out of all the options available, the choice was somewhat obvious.

" _You have selected 'Butler' as your audio pattern of choice. Thank you for your selection. Now, Master Kane. What can I do for you today? Under this profile, I will go by the name of Ramsworth. Since this is your first time using a Nano Watch, I am required to list its functions. Please play close attention to the current holographic readout for insight into the tasks I am able to carry out."_

As the quaint British voice echoed from the watch, Mark took many a moment to look over all the things it could do. Monitoring vital signs, motion tracking, sonar, and radar, GPS mapping in real-time, the capability to access and interface with computer systems, and the storage of audio, video, photographs and personalized data records.

"Is there anything you cannot do?"

The watch glowed red.

" _Unfortunately I am not able to win your battles for you, Master Kane. You must undertake that one task on your o- One moment…. Sir you'll have to forgive me for cutting our introduction short. My motion tracking sensors indicate that there is an unidentified lifeform closing in. The heartbeat does not match that of a regular human pattern."_

"Wonderful," Mark tossed aside his jacket, bringing out the cleverly concealed MP5 automatic underneath. Sliding the strap further up his shoulder, he brought the weapon to bare in both hands. "Ramsworth…. I cannot see anybody closing in. Are you sure that there's somebody coming in our direction?"

" _Indeed sir,"_ the butler surged a powerful blue on Mark's wrist. _"Furthermore… I believe something is not right. While I am only picking up one heartbeat, I am now tracking multiple signals of movement from directly in front of our current position. Two-hundred metres… one-ninety-nine… and closing."_

* * *

Mark felt his legs struggle beneath him. Tremors rocked the earth – and into the sky there exploded a wide beam of white energy. It coalesced high in the darkness of night, meeting in the shape of a floating orb and folding outward. A field of some kind, greyed and static in its appearance, encased the entirety of the beach in a form of shell.

"What in the-"

Stunned – the prodigy swung back. There was nothing in the way of an explanation for this. Turning, he walked in the direction of the nearest dome-like corner of the otherworldly energy source. Cautious in his every move, he reached out to touch.

"Ow! Dammit. Whatever it is… it is obviously electrified."

Turning again, looking onward to the empty expense of the sands ahead, he moved on a pair of careful legs. "Ramsworth…. Can you take a reading o-"

Cut off again, this time by the sound of heavy mechanical whirring, Mark brought his attention off in the direction of the water. An object, one he'd previously neglected to notice, flickered in the same manner as somebody playing with a light switch. As it phased in and out, long lines of electrical distortion passed over its length.

White – pure and unrelenting in its assault of the human eye. It stunned Mark. Indeed, such an intensity against the sight was too much to comprehend. It sent a dull, throbbing pain racing through his skull. Just as quickly as it arrived however, it was gone, leaving him to gather his jarred senses, pulling the fragments of broken glass back together.

"What am I looking at here?"

Once the expanse of his vision returned there were even more questions. A huge steel behemoth of foreign construct, craft-like in its design, hovered above the coastal waters – suspended by the downward thrusting waves of a foreign energy source. Anti-gravity?

"Some kind of ship. It is almost the same size as a large house. Is this yours Celeste? How did you manage to remain undetected for so long?"

A sinister chuckle, one he'd become well-versed with in his time at odds with a certain alien beauty, crawled up his spine. "That, my relentless Terran foe, is a question I will honor with a response. I believe you have earned such a reward. Now, if you would kindly look to your right."

The familiar blue skin temptress swirled into existence just a few short paces away, stepping out from some kind of bizarre invisibility field. Many more dizzying swirls of distortion followed however, and before Markus could respond, he found himself surrounded.

Bulky metal contraptions stared him in the eyes. They stood tall with pristinely painted white bodies and humanoid limbs, their hands brandishing weapons, energy sabres of a devilish red glow. Their eyes pulsed brightly, in the shape of visor-like strips across the face and forehead. Some kind of alien battle robots? They had to be. While he was far from familiar with the trappings of science fiction, the Kane heir knew robotics when he saw it.

A quick headcount brought his already nervous stomach an even sicker twinge. "Six of them. Winters warned me it was a trap. Seems he wasn't understating it, either."

"Indeed, Markus Kane." Celeste came forth with her signature wiggle of the hips. The robots remained stationary as she flashed an elegant hand signal. "A trap that you were more than content to step into. I must declare that I feel an increasingly powerful attachment to your small planet. It is as… _mesmerizing_ as the esteemed warrior scholars of Tendricide described it to be. Even more so... part of me does not wish to depart its atmosphere."

"Spare me your empty words." Her endless talk of primitive beauty and enchantment toward Earth had long since grown tiresome.

Mark brought his gun up, the laser sight aimed squarely around the region of Celeste's heart. "You brought me here for a reason, and I responded in kind. On this occasion I am more than adequately armed and equipped to end you."

"Ramsworth," he addressed the butler, eyes still fixed on his target. "A battle analysis if you would."

" _Calculating. Well, sir,"_ the A.I Englishman began, _"It would seem that your highest odds of success come with neutralizing those bothersome mechanical constructs first. My scans indicate that they are of an element unknown to the periodic table. However, the armor piercing rounds of your automatic weapon should more than suffice when it comes to penetrating their shells."_

Celeste smiled excitedly, her hands linked together in a knot as she stated with childlike interest at the watch on his wrist.

"Human…. You have given me another surprise. Earlier analysis of this planet indicated that there have not been many successful attempts at creating functional artificial intelligence. In fact, while such information remains firmly hidden from the general population of Terra, the records I obtained suggested that only a finite number of groups and military establishments made measured breakthroughs. To see one, though painfully basic, in action… is… pleasing."

How could she go from menacing to innocently inquisitive in a mere fraction of a second? It was impossible to wrap his thoughts around such a concept.

Mark exhaled his annoyance.

"The Kane Industries Nano Watch, by all intents and purposes, does not exist. It is a black market research endeavour funded by the less 'reputable' associates of my family. I myself was surprised that one waited in the crate of supplies that I requested. Not that it will matter to you, Agent Luvendass. If you do not adhere to my demands… I'll have no choice but to end this frustrating relationship of ours."

"We will see about that," Celeste snapped her fingers, sending the battle machines at her back marching forward, their feet crunching against the sands as they went. "Initiate defensive parameter three. Engage and neutralize the Terran male. Retrieve him alive if at all possible…."

She'd finally finished droning on at last. Kane exhaled in preparation for what was to come, hands gripped tightly around his armament. "Let us see how sturdy those machines of yours are."

Muzzle flashes and violent howls erupted from the barrel of the MP5. Empty bullet casings scattered across the golden underfoot. Hot rounds of steel and fire battered one of the encroaching attackers. Its body twitched and buzzed violently with every hit, wisps of electrical fire snapping across its torso before it toppled backward, convulsing in an ear shredding robotic scream before erupting into blue fire.

"Those toys at your disposal are far less impressive than they look," Mark ejected the empty clip – slapping in another from the belt at his waist.

Not a moment crawled by. Locked, loaded, and ready to move, he slung the weapon over his shoulder, zipping to the side of one of the machines, sending a controlled kick thrusting into the centre of its chest. It topped to the ground with a 'bang', and he wasted no time in pinning down using his leg. With speed and poise, Mark brought his weapon to bare, uncaring of the recoil, jammed it into the head of the otherworldly creation, and let loose with a hail of bullets.

Rolling back, empowered and burning, the symbiont gnashing, howling for blood, the prodigy breathed hard, standing in a flash, his entire body overwhelmed in a wave of inhuman skill and reflex. "I had expected far more from these contraptions of yours, Miss Luvendass."

Celeste didn't look impressed by his actions at all, flipping back her snowy strands with an evil curve of the lips. "If your desire is to tear apart your body by bringing the creature inside your blood to call… you are more than welcome to do so. It only serves to make my primary task easier to carry out."

She looked to the remaining robots with a sharp authoritarian state. "Activate shielding."

On command, they brought up their free arms, a wide wall of circular blue spewing out and enveloping them from head to toe in a thin field light. Each passing second brought them closer. The glowing hand-to-hand weapons they clutched hummed sinisterly all the while.

"That won't be enough." Locked and loaded yet again, Mark brought his gun up for another exchange. Anchoring his feet into the ground to dampen the recoil, he let loose in a third volley.

More empty bullets rolled across the sand.

"Impossible," Kane's eyes widened behind their protective lenses.

Shorts twisted and bent around the combat bots – swerving away, but never once hitting the intended targets. Every precious moment wasted, every unfallen foe, brought with it a painful sting of dread.

The gap between Mark and his foes was no more. In a mechanical screech, one of them swung out its mighty leg.

***Thump!***

The sky spun upward in a broken spiral – Mark's head twisting in a vortex as his centre of gravity snapped out of balance. His chest hurt. His breathing felt slow. Everything ached!

In the aftermath, his face felt the burn of sand. He crawled from the ground in a violent cough and looked desperately for his gun. Where was it? He was holding it just a moment ago!

"Shit! This does not bode well," there it lay at his feet, broken into pieces and melted at the hilt.

Such a revelation brought little choice but to change the plan of attack. However, Mark paused for a moment, allowing his mind to flow in overload. Those weapons the robots carried looked awfully dangerous.

' _If they strike me it is highly unlikely I'll be able to withstand such an impact. The technology Celeste has at her disposal dwarfs even the Nano Watch by a sizable margin, and such a piece of equipment is the best I have. Think, Markus. Think!'_

" _Excuse me. Master Kane,"_ Ramsworth sounded, yanking the prodigy from his hurried thoughts, _"Might I suggest an electromagnetic pulse? My surface analysis indicate that these mechanicals are not sufficiently protected aside from their ballistic shielding. Such a surge will likely destroy their circuitry, rendering them offline. I am capable of performing such a function."_

Something about the casual declaration of such a thing brought Mark, already ablaze with adrenaline, closer to boiling over. "Why did you not tell me about this sooner? Did you not think it essential to our current predicament?"

" _Forgive me, sir,"_ Ramsworth flickered a timid purple, _"Such a defensive measure on my part is something of a last resort. Doing so will drain my internal battery, forcing me to power down for up to six hours while a recharge commences. I am of course, experimental by nature, and have my flaws."_

"Do it," Mark commanded, backing away from the ever-approaching band of aggressors, "If they get too close I'll be ripped apart in hand-to-hand by their weapons. There is little time left until they reach me. Be hasty!"

" _Very well, Master Kane,"_ Ramsworth's face flipped outward, changing in a dynamic screech into a pointy-edged square. Upon the front of his readout there sat a skull with chattering teeth and burning red eyes. _"Ten seconds until the pulse. Keep in mind that any non-shielded electronics within a one-hundred meter radius are likely to be destroyed. I pray for your safety, sir, and will see you again when I return to functionality._ _Electromagnetic pulse in three… two… one… commencing."_

In a sleek bluish-purple flash the Nano Watch erupted, its face turning dark as it fell into a deep sleep. The pulse swept across the robots as though it were a smooth ocean wave, leaving Mark to watch in astonishment.

One by one, the creations of alien steel and brutality began shuddering violently, powerful shockwaves of electrical distortion overpowering them. They howled and screamed as their red eye visors blitzed with wild abandon. Finally, almost poetically, they plummeted toward the sands in smoking heaps, still jerking unnaturally for many a moment in the aftermath.

It was gratifying to say the least, to see Celeste stood in silence, a stunned expression upon her blue face. Arms at her sides, she remained unmoving as Mark stepped around her little playthings, closing the distance.

* * *

He smirked victoriously, arms folded – mere metres away from his most hated nemesis. "I'll not have you toy with me this time. We're on equal footing at last. Now you shall listen to what I have to say."

Rain pattered from the darkened sky, splashing through the shield bubble above, its cooling droplets bringing a sense of relief to Mark's heated face. "I shall only warn you on-"

Pain blazed across his chest – gripping his heart in a rabid frenzy. The blood within his veins sang aloud for placation. Perhaps it was the sight of Celeste, perhaps the stress of battle, but the symbiont wrestled for control once again. Kane felt it, wriggling throughout every nerve like a bloated slug, shattering his sense of wholeness, crashing trough the barriers of his mind.

Redness stained his vision. Flecks of crimson pattered against the ground, trails of lifeblood seeping from his eyes and nose. "N-no… Not now!"

This wasn't the time for his body to rebel. His grasp of the situation hung in the balance. The pain was unbarable, so bludgeoning that it caused his head to swirl in a sickening circle. "I ca- I can't... lose control... I must keep on fighting."

The rain just wouldn't let up. Perhaps it was an omen - or perhaps a prelude of fate. The grains of sand spilled through the hourglass and the clock ticked onward.

_'Damn it all! Have I reached my end at last?'_

"I cannot best you - no matter how hard I try. Indeed, you drive me to the brink of madness, Celeste."

Mark collapsed on hand and knee, gasping for breath as his enemy, took bare footed steps across the wet, sandy ground.

"Markus Kane," she smiled, flipping yet another hand through the wet strands of her snowy white hair, "Your friends are still alive... for the moment at least. Your comrade Mike put up a most valiant fight... so much so that I find myself enamoured with him."

Kane's entire body throbbed the weight of the heartbeat ringing in his ears. Regardless, he stood again. A low growl slipped free - fists clenching tight as his limbs shuddered with sharpened rage, "What about Momo? You said she would remain unharmed. Do not say you intend to stab me in the back?"

"She is also alive, and if you wish for her to stay that way," the extra-terrestrial vixen stopped just short of her pray, eying him with her powerful orange orbs in the moon's light, "Then you had better comply with my demands..."

"What do you want?"

As Mark fought steadied his legs, the entire world continued to teeter on the edge a violent vortex.

_'Let me out, Markus. Your sanity hangs by a thread and yet you still resist me. Once I have control I'll pluck the heart from this bitch. I'll make her watch in her final moments before I crush her lifeblood beneath my boot. I'll destroy her.'  
_

"It would appear that you are fast running out of time, Mister Kane." Celeste folded her arms, waggling her finger.

"If we do not remove _it_ from your body by sunrise... the being will complete its meld with your brain and nervous system... and you will cease to exist as a single entity. I could use my surgical equipment to purge it from your bloodstream. Before I do, however, I require one last thing from you..."

"You want to fight me," Mark declared aloud. Of course, she did - she'd hunted him like a cat on the trail of a mouse. "Save me the foolish prattle... and let us be on with it."

Power - it coursed through the man's veins, filling his core with force most intense. His heartbeat thumped, and as the blood pulsed through every fibre of his mortal form, his eyes shone red as blood, "I'll make you pay for what you've done..."

The alien lady took a step back, lips curved into a smirk, "It would seem you are forcefully bending the strength of the creature to your whim - a near impossibility for a human. However... I have learned to expect nothing less from you..."

"This thing is," Mark coughed chunks of red as his senses surged in overdrive, "...destroying me. But I'll not back down. I'll never admit defeat... my most lethal adversary."

"Come," he beckoned her forth with a wave of the hand, standing tall in stance, "Let us finish this..."

"Very good," Celeste chuckled, her curvy form slinking in preparation for the dance of combat, "I have been looking forward to this... never before has a target given me the thrill of such chase..."

Time was almost up. Mark exhaled deeply, and in the final moments, allowed his mind to drift back to the very beginning.

"This is it... the final battle..."

**To be continued….**


	11. Final Battle - Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've arrived at the closing stages. As I said before, there isn't much left to go from here. For a while, I've been giving the ending of this story some thought. I hesitated at one point, too, but in hindsight, I decided to continue as planned. Please enjoy the read!
> 
> There's also a new poll up on my fanfiction.net profile. Why not go over there and cast your vote? Which girls would you like to see next in my Hunie series?

Left to right – ducking between fists like knives. Two impossible blurs of light crashed, imploded and backed away amidst a moonlight midnight sky. Every moment brought the ghostly echo of pain across the fullness of the human body, pushing Markus Kane closer and closer to the edge. The creature inside him howled for blood, yearned for its release into the conscious mind. However, he held no intent of giving in, not so long as his control remained.

"Surrender yourself, human. Your body is on the verge of complete and total collapse. If you continue to fight your internal organs will cannibalize in order to sustain the symbiont."

A warning he'd never heed from his blue-skinned nemesis. Shrugging off her words with a violent growl, Markus skidded to a stop in the sand, pulling out one of the handguns from the belt at his waist. In his gratuitously heightened state, everything moved as though it were at half speed – like an old VHS tape in slow play.

"Try as you might, harlot," he snarled, blue eyes poisoned a vicious red, "You will not stop me. Tonight I will bring an end to your reign of terror."

Taking aim, he let the bullets loose, one after another in an almost poetically beautiful lightshow of muzzle flashes. Why was he enjoying this? Why did the thrill of battle feel so good? For a reason beyond comprehension, the thought of beating Celeste into unholy oblivion brought glee.

He watched with overpowered precision as Miss Luvendass twirled, dodged and danced around his shots. However, much to his pleasant surprise, her showing of elegant dexterity fell painfully short.

She skidded back, slipping toward the ground as if quicksand pulled her down. There she remained, gasping for breath with long fingers of blue clutched around her side. That same bluish liquid he'd seen before trickled between the gaps in her digits, staining the ground.

" _Shen-tei,"_ she spat words in her whimsical alien tongue, painfully standing again, legs wobbling as she went. " _Kai estus shi yosey endo vay._ How is this possible? You were able to…hit me."

"Let this be a lesson to you, alien."

Markus ejected the empty clip from his forty-five, slapping in another with haste. Bringing his weapon back up, he flicked on the laser sight, taking solid aim at Celeste's chest. "You have neglected to wear sufficient body armor during our every encounter. No matter how attuned your reflexes… everybody has limitations. Such confidence will ultimately be your undoing."

The satisfaction of his otherworldly foe frowning in discomfort was almost palpable. Intent on finishing this before she could pull any further tricks from her sleeve, Mark moved to close the gap. "I hope you have last words. I will cherish them before making you scream in anguish."

Everything throbbed; his vision stained a violent ruby shade. It was becoming so hard to concentrate on any coherent thought. The desire to hurt, to inflict pain and suffering, mounted with every second. Like a borderline intoxicating poison, it flooded his mind.

"I will," Celeste wheezed, a small trail of blue followed her footsteps. "I will not be bested by you. I am Celeste of Clan Luvendass. The great tentacle monsters of Tendricide have savaged me…. I have escaped the implosion of a dying world without a functional hyperdrive. I have survived the civil uprising of Novellia Prime."

She puffed out her chest, showing the poise and aloofness of a lioness. "I will walk away from this planet with my bounty, and continue onward. I refuse to be defeated by the likes of you, Markus Kane. Surrender and I may let you l-"

***BANG!***

Smoke billowed from the barrel of his gun.

The bounty hunter's eyes widened – slowly panning downward to the sight of a wide darkened patch seeping through her combat suit. At last, she was silent.

Mark basked in every gorgeous moment as the bright, majestic hue washed from her face almost instantly, overtaken by a pale, sickly shade. That same bluish substance, her lifeblood, leaked from the corners of her mouth, spilling across the fullness of her chest.

"No…. _Sairen yo let ten zai tel-"_

***BANG… BANG!***

Two elegant holes ruptured Celeste's stomach. There she remained, frozen on the spot as a puddle of otherworldly liquid formed beneath her feet. Like a wilting flower she shrank, collapsing onto hand and knee, her fingertips clawing through the bloodied sands.

"A word of advice." Mark arrived at her side – pressing his weapon against the temple of her horned head. "You also have an incessant habit of engaging in monologues. Let this be your second lesson, Celeste."

The prodigy cocked his weapon, preparing end all of this. "I have learned from our every encounter. There are countless times I could have killed you if I'd simply pulled the trigger instead of letting you ramble. I'll not make the same mistake today."

"While I commend your diligence, human… I am far from finished."

" _Ocular phase activated."_

A strange light beamed from Celeste's wrist, flashing Mark through even the protection of his glasses. "Dammit!"

He stumbled blindly – his body brought to a tumble as a feeling of sharpness punched his middle. Like a dagger, something felt as though it were jammed inside, twisting around amidst a violent, primal frenzy.

In a blaze of white, his sight finally returned. Horrified, he looked onward though his lenses. Celeste held her head low, giving a grim but satisfied upward curve of her stained lips.

"They are but an obsolete by-product of evolution for my species…. This is the first time I have used them for such a purpose."

She grunted with agonizing stiffness – ripping one of her horns from Mark's midsection. Her natural defence weapon, caked in his essence, glimmered softly against the reflection of moonlight through the high-tech barrier shell.

Mark crumpled, hacking. His breath was gone – evaporated. A wretch of desperation left his mouth, and with it, there came a mixture of bile and crimson fluid. It seeped upon the ground, mixing with the blue of Celeste to form a twisted purple shade.

The extra-terrestrial vixen closed on him – reaching out with two shuddering hands for his shoulders. Her eyes, usually so bright with surety, held a cold, bitter sadness to them. Tears welled within.

"It would seem," she sucked in desperate air, "That this is our fate. To fight until one of us dies. How fitting, and yet beautiful, that this game we play brings forth such awe and wonderment."

"No," Mark growled.

Violent and empowered, brought back from the edge of nothingness, he let his hatred surge – his heartbeat rampage, and the final chains of his restraint shatter.

His hands shot upward, wrapping around Celeste's neck as he toppled her to the ground. Through crimson orbs flashed purest, most deplorable insanity, the tips of his fingers jabbing into her throat.

"I WILL NOT LET IT END THIS WAY!"

A plethora of emotion ran rampant amongst a crashing, howling landscape of memories. The desert of his mind flaked and crumbled, and from the encroaching nothingness, there came one final howling show of humanity.

Bloodied, broken tears leaked from Mark's eyes as he struggled to throttle out Celeste's life force with everything he had left. The prodigy was gone.

"You have taken everything from me," he confessed in sharp, murderous sobs.

"The life I forged lies broken, and there is NOTHING LEFT! However, I swear this to you, Celeste Luvendass. THIS IS THE END! Even if we are both to die…."

The symbiont leered, crooked and hollow into her fading orange pools. "I AM GOING TO OUTLAST YOU! You are not an enlightened being…. You are finite just like myself. _I will enjoy watching you drain from existence."_

The alien wretched and flailed with transcendent beauty, her inner soul screaming out in such an enchanting display of struggle. How typical of his most hated enemy. Even in her final seconds, she still clung, still fought, and still held the audacity to try to survive.

Yet the strength fizzled like a dying flame. With every fraction of time, Mark felt his body weakening. A cold wave surged across his every nerve, his every fibre, and in one last gasp for air, his hands loosened – his whole body falling limp.

"Not when I was," he rasped, "So close."

Sprawled upon Celeste's chest, he dragged one of his hands upward, resting it upon her cheek. "I… am a Kane," he uttered with pride. "I will never give in…."

In the fleeting seconds, his body met with warmth. Through blurry vision, he made out the sight of Celeste's squirming under him. From the beeping greyish-silver communicator device upon her wrist, she yanked out a pair of tiny cylinders. They hummed with strange illumination.

With a shuddering, bloodied hand, Miss Luvendass reached upward, her lips forced into a pained, desperate smile. A needle extended from one of the cylinders she held, and in a low squeak, she stabbed it into her neck.

" _Emergency overdrive stimulant administered."_

Her chest heaved – a powerful gasp overtaking the silence, and from underneath Mark she sprang. Wrapping her arms around his battered, broken body, she took the second injector and stuck it into the region above his heart.

Colours the likes of which he'd never seen before swam across his vision with radiance. The heart within his chest jumped, if only for a second, bringing back the missing warmth. Try as he might to stay afloat however, such a sensory overload was far too much to comprehend.

The lights of his conscience dimming yet again, Mark collapsed against the sand. As a sheet of blackness descended, he held enough energy to make out one final, haunting sight.

Celeste smiled at him. "It is not over yet… though you have earned my respect, human."

Not a shred of strength remained. Pushed beyond breaking point, Mark closed his eyes. "Why can I not… defeat you?"

"Because," she whipped back her snowy strands with an eerie giggle, "There is still much I must do. Until my task is completed, I cannot allow myself to fall. Though I promise you, Markus Jonathan Kane – I will treat you with the utmost respect until the time of your termina-"

Not yet. He wouldn't fall yet. Mark's hand whipped upward in one final act of defiance – grabbing the bounty hunter by the face. From the sands, he crawled like a wraith, hateful, vile, and inhuman.

"Checkmate."

His body moved as if by reflex – his trail of thoughts fixated, obsessed with the fulfilment of one final objective.

' _I'll kill her. I'll destroy her. I care not what it costs me. She is going to die.'_

Mister Kane moved in a blur, reaching for the nearest thing he could find with his free fingers. He clutched at the hilt of a blade within his belt, lunging with all of the force he could muster.

Sated, content to have at least achieved one final blow, Mark slumped, basking in the glorious sight of the combat knife he squeezed tightly, driven headlong into the middle of Celeste's stomach. For the first time since her arrival she looked mortified, devastated beyond any reasonable doubt. It was wonderful.

"This is why… you shouldn't monologue….."

With every ounce of strength, he drove the metal in deep, twisting it around with a cold, vicious chuckle, marvelling in each precious second of anguish that tainted the alien's face.

"I have never," Celeste cried out, a frightened tear in her eye, "Seen such an intense, vicious determination to kill before. What have I-"

Blood trickled from her mouth, leaking thin streaky lines across her clothing. "By injecting the symbiont into you I have succeeded… in creating a monster…."

"Let this… be a warning. Underestimate humanity… at your own peril."

Finished, burnt out and broken, Markus Kane finally surrendered. His vision filtered out in a sea of grainy distortion, and as he drifted away, he heard ocean waves wash over the shore.

* * *

Water splashed against the sands, bringing a defeated warrior back from the brink. An orange sunrise greeted Turtle Bay in a glorious glow, awakening the senses and dissolving the harshness of battle. In a dry cough, Markus dragged his body upright, panning from left to right with strained sight.

Not a single soul frequented this place – he stood alone and isolated, taking stock of palm trees, beach huts, and empty sunbeds. Where was Celeste? What happened to the massive barrier overhead? Why was her ship missing? So many questions remained unanswered.

It was that lack of clarity, which made Markus ponder the sights. In fact, he went so far as to check himself over. What he found only brought questions of greater complexity.

"There is not a scratch upon me. Not a burn, scrape, or broken bone. What in the world is going on here? Something is amiss…. Who is toyi-"

Electricity surged throughout the core of his self – brightening the sunlight to an almost burning intensity. A growl, pained and discomforted, slid free of his mouth, and there he stood, arms and legs shuddering.

Winds kicked up in an instant, destroying the once calm landscape as a powerful typhoon kicked up in distant waters. Clouds, blackened and evil in their intent, blocked out the sun, bringing with them violently unforgiving rainfall.

The surroundings deteriorated, flaking apart.

" _WHAT?! You've fucking lost it! You can't expect me to know how to work something like this. Fuck, you're asking for a miracle here. One slip and it's curtains! You can't expect me to. No, Celeste. Not a chance!"_

A familiar voice echoed throughout the expanse of Mark's head, crawling with reverberation throughout his skull like a ghost. Mike. Mister Winters was inside his very thoughts!

" _Human… I implore you. No, I beg of you. If you do not try then both Mister Kane and I will perish. There is little time left…. Follow my instructions and have faith. There is no other choice."_

Now Celeste was there too, her words intermingled with those of his friend. Mark held fast against the growing winds, his feet anchored desperately into the ground to stay rooted.

All the while, his thoughts, already torn asunder by invading voices, flared in further alarm. He felt something, someone closing in. An animosity the likes of which he couldn't comprehend. Gazing outward toward the raging sea brought all the answers he needed.

The symbiont, his mirror image, took slow, foreboding steps through the waters, not once deterred by the ferocity of the storm.

"It is almost as if he is the one in control here…."

It was no good – try as he might, Mark could no longer keep his feet sturdy. With every mighty gust of wind, he edged backward, slowly but surely bowled over. There he lay, his body slapped and battered, his senses overtaken.

" _Okay! Here goes nothing! If this ends up a shit show, I'll be blaming you, Celeste. Three… two… one…."_

The return of Mike's voice brought with it a blinding light. What remained of the beach broke apart, leaving nothing in its wake. Markus sat alone in the encroaching blackness, with nowhere to go.

"Is this the end?"

* * *

Lights and wires awoke Mister Kane from his nothingness. Slowly but surely everything came back into perspective, and that was when his eyes widened into pinpricks. He was naked! Bare and stripped of decency. Walls surrounded him, tubing and bizarre unearthly contraptions rivalling pins sticking out of his veins. Looking to the left and right brought with it some faint understanding, but little in the way of hope.

"I'm trapped… inside some kind of pod?"

Disgusting pink liquid flooded into his veins. It felt thick, cold, and its presence within his body only served to isolate his already rapid heartbeat. Indeed, the sound of his own pulse rang out within his ears plainly, almost nauseatingly in its volume.

From beyond the frosted viewing window of his confines, Markus reached as far as his tubing would allow, thumping with reckless abandon. "Release me! Release me at once!"

There was no reply. Beyond the glass, Mark found the reasoning. Mike, beaten, bruised and bandaged, leaned up against a wide computer-like console in a pristine white room, while Celeste sat upright from some kind of operating table. She wore almost nothing, her shapely form wrapped in tight, stained bandages.

"You can't do this," Winters protested in a shout, reaching out and placing a hand upon the blue-skinned alien's bare shoulder. "C'mon Celeste! You said it wouldn't come to this! There has to be some way to remove the _thing_ in his blood without-"

"No," she insisted, looking toward Mark's container with a sad smile. "There are no other methods…. At this stage, the lifeform has already accelerated beyond seventy-percent cohesion with his brain and nervous connections. None of the equipment I have aboard will remove it without the risk of fatality."

***CRACK!***

Much to Mark's surprise, his friend backhanded Miss Luvendass without a shred of remorse, standing his ground, arms folded. "Is that all we are to you? Pieces of fucking meat?! I TRUSTED YOU! For a girl that talks so much about honor and shit I thought you'd have a shred more compassion, damn!"

Celeste hopped down from the table, grabbing Mike by the shoulder and pulling him in close. "You do not understand the position I am in, human. If this Nekorian were to go unaccounted for, I would run the risk of revocation. If the council were to intervene directly then it would put Terra in severe danger."

"Then why bother helping us in the first place?"

Mike slapped her hand away, fearless and glowing a powerful, unnatural blue. For some bizarre reason, one Markus couldn't explain, he was sure he'd seen such an occurrence before.

"You could've killed me when you came after Momo. You didn't. You could've killed Mark right now. You didn't. Why are you going out of your way to help if we're just trash to throw away?"

"Such a trivial matter," Celeste stopped in her tracks, breaking eye contact, "Is none of your concern..."

Powerful, high-pitched sirens screamed to life, interrupting the exchange with a violent foray of flashing orange lights. Computerized beeping followed suit, in tow with an array of distorted mechanical voices.

" _Warning! Incoming transmission. Ident number seven-three-eight-one. It is High Councilman Velore. Patching it through, Celeste."_

A huge holographic screen buzzed to life in the centre of the room, so vast in its scale that Mark was easily able to see from his prison of sorts. A regal, red-skinned alien with blotches of grey upon his insectoid face frowned upon Celeste, raising a rune-etched hood to obscure his features.

" _Blart Yarg kruk Yakk Kal Sooo Shoo Yey Yey Marayan?_ There… Interlingua transmitter online. Agent Luvendass? Why are you on Terra? The council of interstellar nations granted no such contract to you. Furthermore, it would seem that Terrans are aware of your presence. Justify yourself… now. _"_

"Greetings... Councilman Velore," Celeste edged back nervously, holding two tightly knitted hands against her chest, "I received this mission from High Regent Larg over four Terran cycles ago. He tasked me with recovering a rogue Nekorian by the name of 'Momo' and returning her to the homeworld for liquidation. My presence here is authorized."

"No," the alien overlord boomed, leaning into the screen with a frightful glare, two of his four bug-like eyes glowing a sickening yellow. "That cannot be so. Regent Larg was found eighteen earthling days ago… murdered in his palace upon Korus 5. He now resides within a funeral chamber... skinned and drained of his plasma."

"That," Celeste took several sluggish steps back, visibly shaken and pale in her complexion, "…cannot be true. If his life signs have expired then who is responsible for giving me this task? Who sent me on such a long journey?"

"It matters not," Valore wiped a dribble of slime from the corner of his fanged mouth, honing his eyes upon a rather horrified, washed out Mike. "Terminate the humans and leave the planet's atmosphere at once. There is currently an uprising upon Raxus 3. You are required with utmost urgency to respon-"

The sirens howled yet again, a wave of powerful static sweeping across the hologram. It crackled, dancing and swirling in a loop before imploding into a glittery shower of nothingness.

In the midst of the chaos, the same robotic voice from before, sounded again:

" _Miss Luvendass. We are being hacked from an unknown location. Somebody is blocking our broadcast web. My sensors indicate there is another ship within range. It is touching down right beside our own…. Secondary image compilations reveal one incoming signature. Also, be advised, in twenty minutes the barrier surrounding the craft will dissipate. Without the perception field around us the humans will detect our presence."_

" _SHRAK_!" Celeste, shoving Mike aside, made in the direction of Mark's pod. "That leaves us with little time."

Closing the distance, the curvy alien beauty met her eyes with those of Mister Kane. Just the sight of her up close filled him with an uncontrollable rage.

"I am afraid it is time for us to part ways. In just a few moments, you will be frozen in cryogenic suspension. Farewell, Markus Kane. You have been a most wonderful adversary, but alas… all things must reach their conclusion. Worry not about your Nekorian. She will be-"

"Get away from him!"

Mike slammed into her, grappling with everything he could muster. Mark watched, thumping against the glass with a furious snarl as his friend tried to wrestle her away.

It was for naught. Overpowered in mere moments, she struck Winters to the ground with the point of her elbow, holding him in place with a foot upon the chest. He struggled, but her frightful strength held him fast.

Devoid of her usual smile, Celeste pressed an assortment of buttons upon the side panel of the cryogenic unit. Nodding quietly, she turned away. "This is for the good of your-"

She let out a sudden yelp, yanked to the ground in an eruption of powerful blue. Mike stood, pinning her to the pristine floor with the heel of his shoe – his entire body glowed with a radiant light, almost like magic.

" _Cryogenic freezing in Fifteen… fourteen… thirteen… twelve… eleven-"_

Empowered, the musician banged against the glass with all of his strength, fingers reaching out to scratch and claw. Time and time again, as the seconds scraped by, he tried with all of his might. Sadly, his best efforts brought little more than the tiniest cracks upon the container.

"I swear, Mark… I'll get you out! I'll crack this thing open! Whatever it takes. You've always had my back! Just hang in there! I got this!"

" _Six… five…. Four…."_

There was no time left. Sighing, Markus shook his head. "Don't worry. Just ensure that Momo is safe. That is all I ask. Winters…. Forgive me for dragging you into this abhorrent mess. I've failed to-"

" _Zero. Cryogenic freezing complete. Vital sighs, minimal."_

Ice flooded forth – bringing with it a serene stillness. A deep sleep beckoned.

"Mo-mo..."

The the last thing he heard was the frantic shouting of his comrade.

"There has to be something I can do... No! No goddamn it! Mark? MARK!"

**To be continued….**


	12. Terminus - Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise. Another part. We're back with Mike for this chapter. I'm avoiding switching to Celeste for plot reasons. After the last part there's clearly something going on, and I'd rather you see it from an outside perspective. There's only one or two chapters left after this, and work on the next one has already begun.
> 
> Oh, and don't forget that the poll is still active on my profile. Which Hunie girls would you like to see next in my stories? Voting closes after Alien Problems reaches its conclusion.

Mike swung back from the pod, shaken by the sight of his dearest friend, frozen and still.

"Why'd you lie to me? I ain't saying I'm a saint, cuz I'm not, but you told me when you brought me aboard this ship of yours that you'd take that thing out of Mark and he'd be fine. I… even believed you. Now look at him! I wouldn't call the state he's in _fine_ , would you?"

Celeste looked away shamefully. "I implore you to listen, Human. I can explain…."

He dared not take an eye of her for a second. She didn't need weapons. Hell, she didn't even need clothes to be a more than lethal threat. The beaten musician released his hold and stepped away. "I don't wanna hear your excuses..."

Miss Luvendass stood. The feeling of her hand upon his shoulder brought with it enough power to silence his attempts at protest. Fading out, the aura of his Talent evaporated, and with a bitter frown, he broke their shared gaze. The truth, he'd never admit. He was annoyed at himself - annoyed at the fact that the simple act of this alien being near him caused his heart to race.

_'For the love of all that's- What is it about you that's so disarming? Is it your eyes? Your smile?'_

"Listen to my words," she began, voice this time far softer. "It had always been my intention to remove the symbiont from your comrade. However, I found during our previous bout that my projections had gone awry. The progression of the organism is far beyond what I had initially planned for."

"So, he's too far gone?"

Mike backed up from her. His attention was far more taken by the sight of the pod than anything else. "Be straight with me. Will he die?"

"Not so long as he is kept in cryogenic sleep. The symbiont cannot function in a suspend-"

Purple overtook the color of red, the ships sirens increasing in volume to an almost deafening, mind-numbing wail.

" _Miss Celeste,"_ the ship's computer chimed in. _"We have been boarded. There is a large hull breach within the genocell compartment. I have dispatched the last of our mechanized combat units to intercept the invader. That should allow me enough time to restore power to our security network."_

Nodding in confirmation, she brushed Mike aside, sitting in her command chair in the middle of the room. With a snap of her fingers, a wide array of holographic consoles hummed into existence. Her digits moved lithe and graceful as she typed with amazing speed. Glancing his way, if only for a mere second, she invited Mike to sit with her.

"Very good, Ion," she spoke with a hurried tone, "Make haste. These readouts indicate that there are only fifteen minutes remaining until our field dissipates. I require a positive identification on our _guest_ before then. It is already… _troubling_ enough that there is another enlightened being here aside from myself."

Dazed and confused, Mike moved to sit in a small, hovering chair at her back. He'd taken two things from the entire conversation, and the knowledge that the onboard computer was called Ion wasn't the important part.

"I thought you told me you came alone," he spoke, watching as her hands continued to work double time against the strange, futuristic keypads and buttons. "You said yourself that our solar system's on the edge of known space. Why'd someone else bother coming out here?"

Celeste shot an eye his way before going back to her work. "If what Councilman Velore said holds any significance… it would appear that I have been brought here under false pretences."

"Human," she continued, cutting the sirens dead with the flick of a digitized switch. "I require you to do two things for me. Firstly, open the storage cube beside Mister Kane's cryogenic tube and retrieve his firearm. I have a feeling you may need it…."

That was a request Mike couldn't get behind. "Not a chance. I don't like firearms. They make me feel seriously uneasy. I mean, for fuck sakes…. I barely even know how to use one. Only been to a range once in my whole life... ONCE!"

"I advise you to do so for your own protection." Celeste stepped down from her place of command, flicking aside the consoles and looking past the singer. "Secondly," she pointed. "I require you to awaken Momo from her slumber. Remain here on the bridge and ensure her safety until my return."

"You got a plan or something?"

"Yes," the blue-skinned beauty confirmed with a ghostly giggle. Snapping her fingers, a new suit materialized from nothingness, squeezing tight around her curves, while a strange, gun-like device materialized her hand. Some kind of portable rifle, perhaps? It beeped and booped with multi-coloured shapes and sigils.

Celeste went in the direction of the sole, wide exit that lead out into other parts of the ship. She only looked back for a brief moment, flashing a cool, collected wink. Bringing her amazingly advanced weapon into both hands, she hit a couple of buttons on the side. It sang out loudly, before morphing into a massive, two-handed canon.

"I intend to find our unwanted intruder and destroy him. Now, listen carefully, Terran. I have unlocked the security protocols on Momo's tube. In order to release her you must simply place your hand upon the biometric scanner on the side of the device."

"Celeste," Mike called back, halting her departure. "Wait... I gotta say something..."

"Yes? What is it that you wish to tell me?"

He nodded, tense and uneasy at the very notion of his own words. "Be careful, alright? I'm in way over my head here but…. You've been good to me since you brought me to your ship. Don't go dying out there..."

"For real," he gave thankful smile, "I can't even open a door in here without your help. Kinda need you to come back in one piece."

"Mister Winters," the gorgeous Tendricidian smirked, her deep orange orbs shining bright. "Do I detect a hint of affection toward me in your tone of voice? How unusual…. I find it to be quite… satisfying."

Mike shook his head, going off in the direction of Momo's pod. "Must be your imagination."

"Yes. It must be."

Celeste stepped out but a moment later, and wide, solid metal shutter slammed down, sealing the bridge.

* * *

He was alone, left with nothing but an array of foreign computer consoles and his frozen friends. To the left was Momo, to the right, Markus. His most trusted comrade and the feline he'd promised to protect. Both looked so defenceless.

"Whatever's really going on here, I get the feeling you and me are just pawns, Mark. Aliens, fairies, cat girls. What's next, a goddess or some shit? Answering your phone call that night threw my life upside down. Still… I don't regret it. It's given me a sense of purpose since I turned my back on Kyu. You know what's fucked up? I still miss her."

Pushing his thoughts aside, Mike thought back to Celeste's earlier instructions, a hesitant breath slipping out as he examined the side of Momo's capsule. Alien symbols surged with otherworldly colors while little holographic readouts showed vital signs. About the only thing he could recognize across the whole console of sorts was the measure of Momo's heartbeat.

"Okay," he looked to his hand before pressing it against something that looked vaguely scanner-ish.

The metallic plate upon which his palm was pressed lit up in a powerful glowing white – squealing loudly in approval of his print. One by one, the curiously shaped symbols above and below buzzed between green and blue before finally falling dim and lifeless. Slowly, inch by inch, the front lid-like casing of the pod swished upon with a gust of icy cold air.

Stepping to the front, caught in a brief shiver, Mikey held out his arms, as a fragile, naked Momo slumped forward, her small, slender body held in place by an array of gooey, pinkish wires and tubes. He reached out, nervous and red faced, placing his hands around her petite waist as support.

One by one, the tubes erupted, popping out of her arms, legs and back, leaving little holes behind in their wake. Freed at last, the feline woman flopped into his arms, her chest rising and falling slowly.

"She's breathing. Thank goodness for that."

Reaching out just past Marks's pod, still holding Momo protectively with his other arm, Mike grabbed for his friend's scorched, sand-covered coat from atop the storage cube. Slowly and carefully, he wrapped the item of clothing around the cat girl's shoulders, sliding her arms into the holes so that he could wrap it around her middle. Carefully, the red hue upon his cheeks brightening, he fastened the buttons around her chest and stomach in an attempt to warm her. She was so terribly cold.

"Hang in there for a sec, okay Momo? I'll be right back."

Sitting her upright against Mark's pod, Winters reached for the storage cube and pulled it across with deft fingers. Finally, something that wasn't locked with fingerprints, voice, commands or one of those nasty blood scanners Celeste used.

Smiling thankfully for the simplicity of a latch, Mikey flicked open the lid looked inside – taking extra care to imprint every item within his thoughts. Seemed like Celeste had brought most of Mark's equipment aboard.

"A knife… a gun… two magazines of ammo… and a watch. Gun looks a little heavy…. I'd rather not touch it but… I have a bad feeling for some reason. It's for the best."

Reaching inside, he took the firearm, gripping it by the hilt using both hands. "Yeah. It's a lot heavier than it looks. Alright… keep it calm, Mike. Breathe. Remember… just how Nora showed you that one time. Next, the ammo."

He picked up one of the clips and flipped the weapon on its side. "Slap the magazine in tight."

***CLICK… SNAP!***

"Okay… good. Now the safety should be on the side…. Yep. There it is. Flick the safety switch and chamber a round."

***CLICK CLICK!***

Mike's heart thundered nervously at the revelation. "Alright… keep breathing. Don't panic. You're only holding a live handgun. Only holding a live- For fuck sakes! I'm holding a live gun…. What the fuck am I doing?"

Exhaling the tension, desperately trying to calm his queasy stomach, Mike carefully moved across the bridge to sit upon Celeste's command chair. He set down the handgun and exhaled, leaning his head back against the tilting seat.

"Mew… Where- Where am I?"

The familiarity of a tiny, fragile voice pulled him back from the weight of his thoughts. "Momo."

The delicate feline entered his cone of vision on a pair of jittery legs, tottering over and slumping into the co-pilot seat at his back. She reached out with shaky fingers, and Mikey responded in kind by taking her hands into his own.

"Mister Mike," Momo mewed softly. "Where are we? Why's Mark in that strange thingie with all the wires? Momo doesn't get it. She's confused."

"He's fine, it's okay," he comforted her with a smile. "We're still aboard Celeste's ship. Long story short… I need to make sure you're safe until she gets back. Just keep it calm and don't leave my side."

"But," the kitty pondered, squeezing his hands tighter. She leaned in to rest her head against his shoulder, almost as though he were some kind of elder sibling, "Why help the blue lady? She shut Momo in the scary machine... Mike… What if she tries to put me in there again? It feels so cold..."

She looked back to Mark's storage unit, her tail drooping. "We should take Mark and run! Miss Celeste makes me feel all nervous."

"Take it down a notch, please? Momo... it's not that simple."

The passing weeks had brought a lot of time to learn about this quirky extra-terrestrial cat. A creature of fierce instincts but an innocent heart.

Mike placed his arm around her middle, trying his best to give the assurance she so clearly needed. "Honestly, between me you and me. I get the feeling there's more going on here than meets the eye. Mark's asleep and we can't wake him up right now… so we don't have much in the way of choice."

"Sorry," she whispered, her ears flattening as she mewed sadly. "I'm just scared…. Momo doesn't have anybody apart from you and Mark. I don't want to be all alone again."

A thin, crystalline tear leaking from one of her eyes, Momo held her head low with a thoughtful expression.

"Momo still remembers that day. She fell out of this big box and she was wandering around the park. I wasn't wearing any clothes and my head hurt so much… Mark found me. He bought me a lovely kimono dress and took me home. In all the time I lived with him I felt so happy, but when I look up at the sky I get this sick feeling in my tummy."

Her emotions raging in a powerful stream, she gripped Mike as if her life depended on it. "Momo feels like she needs to remember something, but she can't. When I try to think too much my head feels hurty like it might pop."

Her admission sure was intriguing.

"What do you mean? Memories you can't piece together or something? Your past? I mean… you're a cat. There has to be a story behind that."

She gave a final whimper before wiping her eyes on the sleeve of the coat, looking to Mike, almost as though she needed his guidance. "I only remember one thing. Loud noises. The room shook and things started blowing up. Momo could see a tiny blue marble in a big black sky, and the next thing I knew… I woke up in the park."

"A tiny blue marble?"

Mike repeated her words for clarity, taking a fraction of time to mull it over. He flashed back to the earlier discussions he'd had with Markus. This delicate, innocent young lady was supposed to be some kind of alien super weapon.

' _Might be a long shot… but is she talking about arriving on Earth? Who knows… maybe she has a mental block?'_

Regardless, it didn't change the here and now. He pulled back one of his hands and placed it upon Momo's head, petting her gently behind the ears with his fingertips.

She chirped compassionately, the frightened expression on her face seeming to melt away under the provision of such simple comfort. "Meeeeew. That's nice…. Thank you."

"You're we-"

" _Human,"_ Ion beeped to life in a holographic screen filled with readouts. " _I require your attention."_

"What is it?"

Mike pulled away from Momo, reaching for the gun on reflex. "Where's Celeste? She okay?"

" _That is exactly why I am engaging in dialogue with you. Observe."_

The computerized screens twisted together into a single bubble before bursting out in a wide map. They showed intricate maze like tunnels and a huge amount of corridors and pathways. This whole place was far bigger than it looked. Mikey recalled for a moment. It turned out he'd only been shown a handful of rooms since his arrival!

" _Mistress Celeste took up a defensive position in the main service corridor about twelve micros prior. There, she engaged the unknown target alongside the robotic enforcers, beside the fusion battery storage room."  
_

A handful of markers dotted across the corridors nearest to the bridge. It looked as though two different corridors connected the main passage to this specific area, and then back again. Beyond that were the inner workings of this ship, life support, power, and other techy shit he dared not understand.

Winters blinked, trying his best to digest all of this information without overloading. "What happened to her after that? How long's twelve micros?"

" _Twelve micros is an equivalent comparison to roughly six of your Earth minutes. After this time elapsed, I detected a sharp drop in her vital readings. Furthermore, the robotics accompanying her are all offline. She and the target are both moving in unison. It is my assumption that they are-"_

"Why didn't you just tell me they're coming this way? Jesus, what is it with alien contraptions and taking twenty fucking years to explain anything?"

Brushing a nervous hand through his messy whitish-blond hair, Mike grabbed Momo by the hand, traversing the web-like wires across the floor and sidestepping the computer consoles to move as far away from the doorway as possible.

Ion's many holographs twisted into the shape of a motion tracker. Slow, haunting pings erupted from the walls with every passing moment.

" _They are right outside the door, human. It would be unwise to worry yourself, however. The entryway upon which you are looking is constructed ten maitons thick of Durrelium carbon. It should be impervious to d-"_

Low, murderous thuds erupted from behind the door, muffled and nerve-wracking in their resonance. Mike flinched with near enough every hit, watching wide-eyed as slowly but surely, the only shield between himself and the danger began to show dents. Big dents.

"You were saying, Ion?"

Inhaling sharply, he took aim with short, painful breaths. A sickness rose high in his stomach, his head beginning to feel light. "Whatever the fuck's out there sure wants to come in! I don't think it gives a damn!"

"Mike," Momo called out behind, gripping his arm in a terrified shudder. "What's going to happen? I can smell whatever's outside. It makes Momo's nose hurt."

"Stay with me," he instructed with trembling vocal chords. "Don't move. No matter what!"

" **THUMP… THUMP… THUMP!***

A meaty fist burst through the buckling steel, and another, and another. The four wide, chunky fingers of each goliath hand bent around the metal, and with deep, strained squeezing, began to pull chunks of the door away, bending and rending as though it were nothing.

Mike watched in utter astonishment, his hands moving so intensely that he struggled to keep a grip on the gun. The rest of the door peeled away like it were the lid of a can under the pressure of an opener.

Through the jagged, broken archway, a pair of boots, shined and polished, thundered.

* * *

Mike choked out an astonished gasp, doubling back with Momo at his side. His eyes, bloodshot, and fearful, kept a bead upon the creature.

A towering blue ogre, easily ten feet tall, six eyes like inverted diamantes, and teeth of a similar shape to broken glass. He flexed three of his massive, muscle ripped arms, the forth keeping a motionless, bloodied Celeste slung over his shoulder, and thumped further inside, his every step shaking the ground.

Winters, lost for any semblance of words, continued to take in his appearance with seizing lungs, the color washing from his cheeks.

_'You're- You're not as pretty as Celeste... Oh fuck...'_

Long, dark fibres of hair pooled down this monster's back in the shape of constricted tribal locks, his massive, boulder of a body squeezed tightly into a black vest and similar, combat styled trousers. Upon his chest, there shimmered a trio of circular pins akin to that of medals.

From behind, there buzzed a small sphere shaped mechanical, a lens for an eye zipping back and forth across the room. It came closer to Mike, breaking his terrified cycle of thoughts and forcing his response.

Sucking in air, hands shuddering all the while, he raised the gun and pointed it at the object of metal and alien construction.

"D-don't come any closer. You touch me or the girl and I'll pull the trigger. I- I swear! D- don't fuck with me."

His words caught the alien's attention. Turning, the invader dropped Celeste from his shoulder, cracking his four mighty, knuckled fists with at least a hint of vague interest.

" _Guun do lang so brouut crun gat gat vo craal. Vet Vraaal zun kat?"  
_

None of the words made any sense, at least until the creature, whatever it was, slapped the pulsing pink device fitting into one of his two pointed, dagger-like ears. "Put that trinket down, Terran trash. You stand in the presence of General Crull, third in command of the New Elizian Empire."

His razor teeth turned upward in a crooked scoff. "On second thoughts... take a shot with that worthless weapon ya got there. I dare ya to try... because I sure aren't one for doctrine. _I loooove me some killin_ '."

"I'm not playing," Mike warned, retreating until his back hit the wall, terror ripping though his body at the mere sound of Crull's deep, booming voice. "Take another step and I'll-"

"THEN DO IT YOU FLECK OF KARNAX SPUTUM! OPEN FIRE!"

Mike broke, his fingers squeezing around the trigger in desperation. One by one, the bullets thundered from the gun, some missing and smashing into the consoles behind, while the others punched into Crull's massive chest. He did little more than flinch, smiling with glee at each round's fiery impact.

"DON'T STOP NOW! IT'S GETTING FUN!"

The gun clicked empty time and time again in the aftermath, and the defeated singer, pale and ghostly, clung to an equally horrified Momo as he slid to the ground in a heap.

"Pathetic," Crull flexed outward, squeezing the bullets from his chest. They pattered against the floor, covered in green goop. "Why'd you Terran's even bother to make guns in the first place? You couldn't even kill a desert Shrak with those things."

"Oh well," the massive alien thundered with laughter.

In a whoosh of sound, the sphere from before returned to his side. "Analysis, Doc Drell?"

"Well, Crull," the little robot piped up with a glowing beam of light.

"You were right. Two Terran's and the Nekorian. This yellow-haired one is of little interest to me… While I did detect a strange energy signature resonating from his body, I would have to conduct many a procedure to prepare him for alteration. This is not the case with the one inside the cryogenic unit, though. My analysis indicated successful symbiotic fusion. He is perfect... I suggest we consider taking him."

Crull's eyes honed in on Mark's pod, his split, toothy grin twisting into a showing of pleasant surprise. "Well glark my vector! A Terran surviving a biomerge. That's new! Tell ya what doc. Let me finish this little one and we'll be on our way."

"Not if... I have... anything to say about it..."

A low, strained wheeze tore his attention away. Snapping his head back, the otherworldly general gazed upon Celeste's battered body with brutal, sickening hatred. "Thought I'd punched your lungs out already. What is it with you Slarks from Tendricide not stayin' dead? Urgh! Zarg it! I'll crush you first before we finish up here."

Cracking his neck from side to side, Crull closed on the white-haired beauty. "Would've been much easier if you'd followed the orders we threw your way. By the Second Sun, I should launch a neuron missile into Tendricide's atmosphere so I can watch with a cask of Tetra ale as your kind melt away. You honor-bound types make me sick..."

Celeste crawled, taking a strange injector from her wrist, stabbing it into her neck. Some kind of painkillers, maybe? Mike hadn't seen them before.

"So it was you that sent me here. You killed High Cleric Larg!"

He gave an evil roar of laughter, bridging the gap to tower over the struggling alien girl. "Guilty. After I finished ripping off his skin, we had Doctor Drell here drain his plasma… After that... it was simple as injecting a Nezran shape-shifter and having one of our spies take his place. The rest's history."

For the first time since her arrival, Mike could see a fury in Celeste's eyes. She looked to be boiling over, enraged beyond any reconcile. "You deceived me," she spat in the general's face - much to his displeasure. "There was no contract from the council. It was your intent to use me as a tool for your own intentions."

"You're just working that out now?"

Crull's hand loomed ever closer to Celeste's face. "You were supposed to kill the human and bring that disgusting feline mutant to me. _Nothing more._ Gods, what purpose does your race serve in this galaxy? Your entire species are nothing but the dying remnants of a forgotten age. The days of warrior code and artistic expression are gone you annoying little zelt!"

His boot thumped down against Celeste's chest. She screamed out as he pressed down. "Look around the expanse of space. Tendricidian's are the dregs of society. Cage fighters, mercenaries and whores. The males of your species are no better. You act so noble about your culture but it's all worthless. Not even a lowly Terran would want one of your kind. You're expendable… you're-"

"As a friend once said to me," Celeste hacked painfully, her lips curving into a smirk. "You are engaged in a monologue."

" _Ocular phase, activated."_

A powerful pulse of purest white filled the room. By the time it cleared, Celeste had escaped her impending demise, arriving at Momo's side in a pained flurry of movement.

Mike could see it clear as daylight, the agony contorting her features. "Are you oka-"

"There is," Luvendass coughed a splatter of blue, kneeling in a desperate attempt to stay level. "There is little time. Forgive me, human… but I must do what I promised I would not."

She stood again, gripping Momo by the shoulders, and connecting golden eyes with fleeting orange. Her hands shuddering, she brought every last ounce of strength she could to bare.

" _Unit Momo…. Find your place beyond the stars. It is your time. The time to unleash your destiny."_

The kitty's eyes shot wide open – switching from their powerful golden hue to a cold, icy silver. She shook, jittered and spammed, letting out vicious, searing mews of abhorrent discomfort.

"Nyaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Mike looked with what little strength he had – dismayed as every detail of the innocent feline morphed. Her short locks of brown hair pooled out in a long, luxurious swath down her back, the nails of her fingers sharpening into perfectly vicious claws. Unnatural spines ripped from the back of the coats fabric, and perhaps most terrifyingly, her front fangs grew into curved sabres.

She doubled over, hissing, as small flecks of saliva dripped from her mouth against the dirtied floor. Shooting back a glare in Celeste's direction, the reborn Nekorian waited with unfaltering obedience.

"Your orders, Mistress Celeste. What do you require of this one?"

Miss Luvendass gave a hateful smirk to the general. "You are to destroy Crull. Render him limb from limb."

"Not so fast."

In one of his hands, the four-armed monster clutched a flashing orb. Red waves crackled across its surface, twisting and snapping in a strange, disjointed musical melody. "Catch."

He tossed it, watching with twisted satisfaction as it landed at Mike's feet.

"Looks like it's your luck day, Terran. Kaboom…."

An overpowering, cleansing brightness enveloped Mike's body. There were no words, no seconds to explain, just heat, a flame so strong, that it purified his world. Rings of energy surged across his body, scarring into his skin with elegant lines.

_'I'm burning…. It hurts….'_

Pushed past breaking point, he collapsed on hand and knee, watching as the world pushed forward through faded eyesight. He couldn't move. His legs wouldn't work. Anything beyond feeding his lungs with air was a task far beyond comprehension.

A clawed Momo let out a feral howl, swiping at General Crull in a blood lusting frenzy. She didn't let up for a moment, ripping holes into his chest like a Hellish fiend, his gooey green essence spattering across walls in spades.

It was a remarkable sight, even in such a weakened, desperate state. Massive balled knuckles blasted forth like shotguns, met in return with animalistic teeth and claws in a bloody, furious mishmash for survival. Neither one of the alien juggernauts gave an inch.

"Human," Celeste called out, limping over from her place beside Mark's storage unit. She reached out, using what little she had left to pull him from the floor. "Your skin has been burned by nova wave energy. You require urgent medical intervention."

"Still hanging," Mikey whimpered. "Hanging in there. Here you are again, Celeste... trying to help my useless ass when you don't need to."

She held him tightly, rubbing a horn against the side of his cheek. "I shall hold you in my debt for such an act of kindness. Yes, I will take great pride in having you repay me. Now, remain still..."

Bringing another strange vial from the device upon her wrist, Celeste leaned in, stabbing it into his neck.

A cooling sensation surged throughout the blood, giving Mike at least a fraction of the relief he so desperately needed. "Thank you..."

"It is my ple-"

"ENOUGH OF THIS SHRAK! By the Laughing Queen... I am done wasting my time here!"

Crull raished his arms like a hammer, slapping Momo across the face with thunderous force.

"Nya..." The Nekorian hissed, wobbling in dismay before falling in a heap. She struggled in an attempt to stand upright, but didn't make it past a boot to the face. After the second strike, she moved no longer.

"At last she is silent."

Exhaling deeply, Crull tensed his muscles, the gaping, sticky wounds across his torso knitting back together, leaving little more than thin cuts across the expanse of his chest. Nothing seemed to stop him!

"She'll make a fine addition to the collection. Perfect for the next stage of the plan."

Picking her up, he slung the unconscious girl over his shoulder. "Well, one down. Two more two go."

" _Celeste,"_ Ion sounded amidst all of the commotion. _"I am picking up a sudden spike in vital activity from within the-"_

A shallow thump jarred Mike's senses. With Celeste at his side, he turned back. A hand ruptured its way through Mark's capsule, its digits gripping down hard. Pulling with unstoppable might, the door to the cryogenic unit fell away in an effortless movement.

Frozen air flooded the command bridge, and from the mist, came a pair of glowing, crimson eyes.

_"I am not finished yet..."_

**To be continued….**


	13. Terminus - Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at long last – the ending is in sight. After this chapter there's only one more left. I'd like to thank everybody who stuck with this tale up until now. So, how will things play out from here? I know there have been plenty of twists and turns.
> 
> I also want to say thanks to everybody who voted in the poll so far. It will close shortly, but there's still time to have your say if you haven't already. Let's begin!

From the frozen clouds, there came a spectre – a man bound by the chains of captivity. Everything he held dear had been trampled. Brought back from the brink of death so many times, he stood on the cusp of truest retribution. Uncaring of circumstance, uncaring of destiny, he stepped forth onto the battlefield, eyes of red burning red-hot against the crying illuminations of a gargantuan spaceship.

Markus Jonathan Kane would find the underlying cause of this twisted game. No prison would hold him; no enemy would stop him. No, not even the very gods of this mortal realm would constrain him, not until his final victory or defeat.

Celeste eyed him with frightened wonderment inside those orange eyes of hers, truly lost for words as she held an abused, battle scarred Mike in a protective embrace.

The two of them looked to be pale and deathly, a warning sign no doubt of the trial ahead.

Giving them both little more than a nod, the prodigy took his place at the heart of Celeste's command centre, anchoring his feet into the ground with a cold, bitter scowl. An unknown extra-terrestrial held his dearest Momo as though she were a paperweight over one shoulder, his hexagonal diamante gaze honed with interest.

"Okay, Terran," the being spoke with audacity, "Looks like the doc was right about you after all. You're coming with us. For you to biomerge like that… your genetics must be fascinating."

His words meant little. His towering presence meant even less at this point. Cracking his knuckles in stern warning, Markus took up stance, a powerful red aura pulsing from his ocular organs in tandem with his heartbeat.

"Put… her… down."

The alien being scoffed, grinning with glee, tossing the broken kitty against the cold steel floor with little regard. "You got some spirit. Not a hint of fear in your eyes. Very few have the backbone to stand against General Crull of Elizia with such bite. I'm… curious about you."

General Crull, so that was his name? Not that such a trivial affair would hold weight by the end of this dialogue. Markus snapped his gaze away for a mere microbe, just long enough to swipe the familiar sight of his discarded blue handgun from the floor.

"Mark," a tiny, unnerved voice sounded from behind – one he knew very well. "Here, he's dangerous… take this."

In his offhand, Mister Winters held a clip of ammunition, one he passed over with an emerging smile, one of thankfulness. "K-kill this fuck…. He's… the one calling the sho-"

A howl of amusement both deep and menacing from Crull. With a stomping footstep, the four-armed giant came closer, punching his massive hands together with a thump.

"Shut yer trap. None of this will make an ounce of difference to your situation. You can't stop me. None of your pathetic species holds a chance in Shrak of bringing an end to my plan."

Markus ejected the empty clip from his firearm, slapping in the reserve. "We shall see, shall we not? Step forth, alien. I will not allow you to have your way."

"Allow me to assist you, Mister Kane."

Celeste? No, she wasn't to be a factor in this. Despite such bizarre circumstances afoot, he still didn't trust her intentions. None of these aliens held regard for the plight of human life. If anything, Miss Luvendass' methods since her arrival had taught such a thing clearly as crystal.

"I do not require your help," he spoke stiffly, taking aim at Crull with one flawlessly steady hand. "I will deal with him, and then I shall deal with _you_ …"

"Negative."

Regardless of his order, Celeste stepped in anyway, releasing Mike from her hold to take up position. He orbs of deepest alien radiance seemed to shine all the brighter at this very moment. Though battered and bandaged, it was clear she held no intent of surrender.

"Markus," she giggled, a sharp, dry cough ripping forth, "He is far more dangerous than you could even begin to comprehend. It will take our combined efforts to-"

"SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH! For the love of Raxus 2, now who's droning on like a flock of Tyvon tundra bats?"

Crull thundered in like a battering ram, Celeste zipping to the side with a blur of her extravagant inhuman speed. She chuckled mockingly at his attempts, whizzing around in circles as her hands rained down in a torrential shower.

Indeed, Luvendass' style and form demanded at least some interest. The way she moved, and the manner in which her delicate hands struck out against a significantly larger target brought with them an undeniable smirk of intrigue.

Mark took mental note of everything as best he could. If his snowy-haired nemesis were to be the victor of this fight then he'd have to finish her off. There would be no quarter. He, Momo and Winters would be the only ones leaving this damnable place alive.

"General Crull," Celeste smiled as she doubled back, drops of sweat trickling down the forehead, "It seems that fatigue is setting in. You Vorax are all the same, driven by aggression and ego. Nothing more."

"Huh," a mocking scoff was all he gave in return. "Nothing's going to stop me. I won't rest until I watch the Council of Interstellar Nations burn. This planet right here will be the first step. It's so backward and distant from the rest of known space that nobody will notice... until it's too late."

"Well then," the Tenridicdian took off in a rush of agility, "It falls to me to ensure you are stopped."

Regardless of her stony words, the towering wall of muscle seemed uninterested.

"Such noble intent is not enough! You've already fallen into my trap. Why do you think I waited until now to reveal myself?"

A single bludgeoning slug of an elbow held enough force to send the bounty hunter reeling back with a sharp, heaving hack for. Speed or not, her pretty features contorted. Leaned up against the strange alien consoles beside a swarm of holographic projections, she struggled to stay upright.

Blue fluid leaked from the constraints of the web-like bandages across her chest and stomach. "No…"

" _Say yen too vet ren lo zet shii_. My previous injuries… they have not fully healed…"

"Exactly you fool," Crull roared with euphoria - no doubt deriving some form of perverse enjoyment from her suffering. "You are already weak from previous stints of combat. It's surprisin' that you're still standing... but we'll soon fix that."

He stomped ever closer on colossal tree trunk legs, reaching into the pocket of his military fatigues. From therein he produced a silvery hunk of rectangular steel, its edges whirring and howling with chainsaw-like teeth.

"Plus you're constantly firing those combat stims like a Loria addict. The healing factor won't trigger so long as you're still fightin'. Glorified painkillers. The very notion of such medical stimulants was derived from the natural regenerative factors of my own species."

"Now," the general plucked Luvendass from the ground, squeezing her neck tight as he brought his horrific surgical implement closer. "Let me introduce you to a contraption called the 'Ripper'. Doctor Drell threw it together for me. Ain't she lovely? We used the same device to peel off Larg's outer layers."

Celeste wretched and choked – the hue of her skin beginning to fade in almost chameleonic fashion to a deathly, devoid white. Her legs flailed and thrashed with desperation.

"I can't decide what to do."

Crull laughed mockingly. "Should I rip off your skin... or squeeze down a miton harder on your scrawny neck? Might be fun watching your head burst like a Zeros cattle swine. Hmm… decisions decisions…."

There was not an ounce of desire on Mark's part – nor the faintest hint of remorse. Indeed, if anything this sight was far too pleasing to avert his gaze. A hateful smirk curving his lips, the tainted prodigy continued to watch the spectacle with a sickening excitement, twirling the pistol between his fingers.

"Help… me…"

"MARK!"

Silence descended in a veil across the whole room – every pair of eyes, both alien and human alike fixated on one fearful soul. Winters, his emeralds pleading and watery, came in from the side, snatched away the gun from Mark's hand, and aimed it with unsteady hands toward Crull.

"What in the world's fucking wrong with you?! Don't let him kill her! If she dies, there's no way we're getting off this ship! We'll be trapped here you moron!"

Mark was content to abstain. For the good of all humanity, he was quite prepared to stand and watch these two destroy one another. In fact, the being inside his body screamed out in happiness, bathed his lifeblood in a warm, pleasing burn. To watch this 'Crull' creature finish the job would be a most satisfying end to their week's long conflict.

"Let him break her. I shall find a way for us to leave this place in-"

"Ohhhh… now the yellow-haired one wants a shot? This is getting veeeery interesting."

Crull released Celeste from his grip, smacking her down with the back of his pointed digits, dropping the Ripper at her side. A shrill cry erupted from her cracked bloodied lips before she fell limp against the floor, chest heaving in desperate movements.

Smashing through the obscuring consoles with a swoop of two of his titanic arms, a hefty burst of electrical energy whipping up, licking across the floors and walls as he went, the dreadlocked general, hardened and battle ready, twisted his jagged teeth into a wide, murderous smile.

"Okay, weakling. Show me what you have. Why not put down that weapon of yours and fight me like a real warrior? Come on! LET'S MAKE THIS FUN YOU RUNT!"

Winters passed the handgun back to Markus with a stern nod. "Fine."

This whole situation held a bizarre tone, even within the hazy difficulty Mister Kane had in maintaining coherent thought.

This was a side to Mike he'd never seen before. Bold, embodied, willing to stand and fight not just for his music, but also for the protection of others. What had transpired during his time asleep? More importantly, why was he so intent on helping Celeste?

' _Something has ignited within you, friend. It concerns me, to see you so willing to fight for this alien scum. Do you not realize the threat she poses to our safety if you side with her?'_

A wave of energy – truest blue in its entirety, spilled from Mike's body. He took off, a confident smirk curving his lips, skidding to a stop on the heels of his dirtied shoes, standing tall in the face of the towering otherworldly giant.

"You're a sadist…. I see it inside you. Well... I'm through watching you swing your weight around like some motherfucking savage! I threw away everything… and I've seen enough people hurt through selfishness and desire. No more. No more..."

Slugging, juggernaut hands came crashing down, fuelled by the depths a furious heart. One by one, the blows rained in, exerted and messy, forceful and violent, Winters not giving an inch as he surrendered everything he had.

Fascinating, Crull's face turned in displeasure, his wide boots inching back with each subsequent hit, massive burn marks across his chest. Was it the blue aura? The way it illuminated the expense of the room was mesmerizing beyond the likes of which words could describe. Yet Mark was sure he could see it, the faint shine of a musical note scarred into Mike's back like a glyph.

"TAKE YOUR DIRTY HANDS OFF ME."

Snarling in animalistic fury, Crull anchored himself to the ground with a stomp, swinging out two of his arms and gripping the singer's shoulders. His broken fangs gnashed in a vile, haunting laugh, and there he pushed, sending Mike flying across the room and crashing into one of the cryogenic capsules beside Celeste – the sheer force cracking the glass casing.

"D-damn… I… I can't…"

Gulping the air with desperation, Winters crawled closer to the white-haired alien girl, placing an arm around her, his head slumped defeated against her bloodied chest. "N-nothing stops him…."

* * *

"Gotta give those two some credit," Crull growled with satisfaction, his full attention refocused upon Mister Kane. "No matter how much I knock them both down, they keep getting back up. Think I'll snap them like pair of Bargons when I'm d- No… actually… let's up the stakes by a couple of vrells, shall we?"

From the belt at his waist, the general pulled yet another interesting trinket. This was most certainly an occurrence Mark had become accustomed to in his time locked in combat with Celeste. Interesting. This piece of equipment held the shape of a cube, each of its sides flashing in an assortment of different colored blocks.

Twisting it from side to side, Crull set it down at his feet, marvelling with a grim scoff of appreciation as each side of the alien creation turned solid white.

" _Device armed. Implosion in ten Terran minutes and counting."_

"This right here is a Hydron grenade. A multi-purpose weapon that can be activated in a variety of ways depending on the needs of its user. Like ya heard, it'll go off soon, sending a lethal pulse of electrical energy across the entire craft."

Markus enjoyed these odds – another piece of alien trash to bash into submission before the day was done. This one had many limbs, plenty to rend and tare. "Ten minutes. That will be more than enough time to deal with the likes of you."

"Confident... aren't you, Terran? I'm going to enjoy this."

Ripping the tattered remnants of the vest from his body, the Vorax turned his arms outward, beckoning the prodigy forth. The countless burns across his torso, the markings of Mike's valiant attempts, bubbled into blisters before evaporating in puddles of fleshy goo. The healing abilities this being possessed, they were beyond the bounds of any rational thought.

"C'mon! Let's see what you're capable of, you tiny, naked primitive. Hah… if you win there might even be enough time to take your friend and escape."

Such a revelation brought with it a chilling jolt. What of Momo? Would there even be enough time in the aftermath to take both her and Winters from the craft to safety? What if one of them had to be left behind?

' _No. I cannot think about that now. Unless I vanquish this egotistical bastard, there is no hope for anybody aboard. I couldn't care less about the future of Celeste… but I must ensure the others are safe… even at my own expense.'_

"Brace yourself, alien refuse. I need not clothes or a weapon to best you. My own two hands are capable enough."

Tossing his gun to the ground, Markus took off in a blur, his rage bubbling to the surface, heart stabbing with ungodly pain as he crashed headlong into his target. No mercy, no timewasting, not a shred of compassion. These disgusting, inhuman visitors had come to his planet and obliterated all he held dear. Even if it killed him, he would destroy every trace of their existence.

Zipping, sidestepping and dodging between four striking forearms, Mark pounded his fists into Crull's chest, sliding to his side with unstoppable zeal. His feet left the ground, body light as a feather, legs twisting out like a pair of interlocking scythes to batter the side of his head.

***WHACK!***

"Drell," the alien, dazed and confused, staggered back.

Bloodlust brimming within his features, he barked toward the floating orb at his back, "Help me get a neural lock on this infernal glark! He is extremely fast-"

"I assume this floating mechanical is Drell, correct?"

Kane was one step ahead, already having plucked the 'doctor' from the air, his form gripped tightly between bloodied fingernails. "I regret to inform you that any such support is hereby suspended."

Holding fast, the furious prodigy brought his power to bare, an invigorating wave of adrenaline pushing his muscles far beyond their usual constraints. There he watched, smug and empowered as the construct of high-tech design crumped and sparked within his grasp, buckling as though it were little more than a tin can.

" _Err-errr error… o-o-o offline…"_

Casting the destroyed machine aside like garbage, Kane fell back into an affluent stance of battle, eyes still throbbing their violent, unnatural red. "Those indentations upon your chest appear to be awfully discomforting, Crull. I shall derive great enjoyment in worsening them for you."

"DAMN YOU! Stay still and let me squash you already!"

Parrying a pair of brutal punches, Mark breathed deep, focusing his every breath upon the task of inflicting collateral damage. Yes, his enemy seemed to possess amazing healing qualities, but surely, there was a limit to such an overwhelming feat.

Clasping his four hands together, there came a deep exhalation of breath from the seething monster. Grinding his teeth in a threatening chuckle of amusement, he took off on a lunge, smashing aside everything in his path.

"You might have symbiotic strength at your disposal, but I still don't rate your chances. You have no idea what you're up against, you base, primitive pile of tumorous filth."

Mark's erratic heartbeat sent an agonizing throb of warning across his every nerve, feet leaving the ground against his desire under the almighty force of such an impact. His perception inverted, blowing out like a candle and snapping back in an abrupt flash, the dull ache of cold steel surging throughout his body as he regained full control of his senses.

His head pounded under tremendous weight, the pressure within threatening to bring his brain to the brink of implosion. "Bastard…."

Crull's boot, perfectly shined, slammed down against the base of his spine, bringing a bark of violence to spill from his mouth. "Do not think this is over."

He most certainly had no intent of handing over his life, or the lives of his comrades to this deplorable invader from another world. "Remove your foot from me or I shall-"

"You'll do what?"

Further pressure brought Mark to erupt, barking his bloody desires amidst a flurry of insults. No. He'd not be vanquished like this. He'd survived far worse. His many battles against a far more devious, far more lithe and deadly predator had only taught him the further need to harness any and all power at his disposal.

"This… I'll do _this_..."

The prodigy and the symbiont crashed together into one, pain and pleasure dancing against the midnight sky of a broken, hallow mental landscape. In clarity, there was unity. In unity, there came strength, and from such strength was born one last wave of animalistic desire.

' _At last you harness my power to its fullest potential. Come forth, Markus. Let's rip this heinous fool limb from limb. Yesssss… I like the sound of that. I say we pluck off his arms one by one.'_

"Arrrrrawwwwwr!" Demonic and insatiable, Markus overturned Chrull and flipped to his feet, spinning back with just enough time to watch with glee as he came slamming to the floor in a heap.

"You keep pushing that thing inside your blood and it's gonna eat you alive, fool. Advanced species can barely handle a Lexaros symbiont. Your primitive human physiology doesn't stand a chance."

Climbing to his feet, his six eyes shimmered a deadly grey, and from the pit of his stomach, the Vorax released a hearty laugh. "The doc wants me to take you back alive. I better put you out before you finish destroying yourself. That heart inside ya… it's beating so hard I can hear it with my neural implant."

Another crack of his knuckles and Crull was on the offensive yet again.

"Okay… Breathe, Markus. Breathe…."

There was no need to move. In this state, his body long since beyond the brink and his mind ticking in overtime, Kane was ready. The world around him slowed to a crawl, every fragile etch upon the great wall of time so painstaking that there need be no fear.

"What the?"

Protest boomed from the alien. Markus sprung, taking a solid grip of his hand, applying pressure in such a manner as to force his palm open wide. The time was right. The enemy right where he wanted him. The power of the symbiont pushing him further, heightening both the strength and the pain in equal measure, he cracked a foul smile.

"Such an error will cost you dearly. Check-mate."

All that was needed was the right amount of force.

***SNAP!***

The sight of Crull's thick, prominent wrist bending and breaking was delightful. The distortion of both his revolting features and the wild, feral gnashing of his beastly teeth, as guttural alien curses spewed from his mouth in reckless abandon, brought a feeling of approval beyond words.

"Ohhhhh that's it! I'm done holding back against you, feculent human. I'm sure if I destroy you Drell can do a little rebuilding. _Blart dun glark vert gun do vet vet raal kun scat! Kyak kyak kyak!"_

Impossible. Mark felt his body freeze – held by a force so powerful that there was barely time nor comprehension enough to respond. A beam of energy spun up and down his torso and legs, preventing his limbs from any kind of movement.

Standing tall, the otherworldly titan flashed a thin circular device strapped around his wrist, a grey line of light spinning outward from its core. "Let me show you this."

It was useless. There was still no way to move!

"You are currently held in place by a portable gravity beacon. You matter what you do, there is absolutely no chance of regaining your mobility."

There Crull stopped, preparing his massive hands. "But you are free to speak as much as you like. Scream for me while I beat your puny body into pulp. You may have a dreg of skill… but you have succeeded in annoying me. My wrist will take days to heal… but your fragile form when I'm done with you? I believe your species call the word a 'miracle'."

White light broke out across the expanse of the control room – an ear-piercing hum erupting from the Hydron grenade as it began to hover slightly off the ground, spinning on its axis at an ever-increasing speed. _"Implosion in four Terran minutes…."_

A shockwave coursed throughout as the first punch came crashing in. Coughing, his lungs ablaze, Mark struggled for breath, defenceless against such brutal assault. In came another strike, and another, endless, knuckled attacks slamming down, each one blunt and vicious enough to send his conscious spiralling backward. Bile and the poisonous taste of copper filled his mouth, seeping down his chin in _a_ tainted greenish-brown stream.

* **CRACK… CRACK… CRACK!***

By the fourth round of strikes, Mark yelled out, his vision fading, ribs feeling flat, stinging in opulent agony. Something inside him was broken. He didn't need to be a medical professional like his father to know that much.

"Had enough yet? I could've sworn I felt one of your organs collapse. Plenty of blood spilling out of your mouth hole there, human."

With a vile, throaty growl of laughter, Crull pressed the switch upon his arm. One by one, the gravity rings flickered out of existence and dispersed – leaving a limp and shattered man to fall.

***SMACK!***

The floor held an overwhelming coldness to it. Mark struggled, opening his mouth in a pitiful attempt to bring air inside his body. Nothing came, his lungs, the very things needed for his oxygen to flow, instead filled with fluid.

There he choked, drowning inside and overwhelmed. Desperate, frenzied wails rang out within his mind, the symbiont too fighting for its life as their shared physical existence threatened to fall in on itself.

' _MARKUS! Stand and fight! If we are to die then I demand that we take him with-'_

The thoughts of the melded duo fell silent as a hand coiled around their caved chest, hoisting them with a frightful, dizzy blur into the air. The shoulder. They were slumped over Crull's left-side shoulder!

"M-Mo-"

No words. Just blood. More reddish-green essence poured out, spattering the floor. The face of an unconscious cat girl greeted him as she too was mounted upon the other shoulder. The sight of her innocent face tarnished and bruised only made this awful revelation all the more real.

The battle was over. The prodigy had fallen. Winters lay helpless upon the floor, arms wrapped around the middle of an otherworldly temptress. He too was destined for a grim fate.

" _Implosion in two Terran minutes."_

The white light of the Hydron grenade spiralled out of control. In a bright flash, its ocular timer vanished, returning even brighter than before in a heated blanket of red.

Regardless of the fear and disgust within, Mark remained still. With every passing second his body felt colder, the inner flame of his turbulent, fractured soul threatening to fizzle out.

"Well, it's about time we leave. You and Momo will make fantastic subjects for phase two. This loathsome settlement you Terran's refer to as Glenberry? It's about to become the nerve-center of something very special…."

"Drell," he continued, pulling up some kind of black communication device strapped around his third wrist. The face of the watch-like constuct shone in a beam of orange, its patterns twisting and combining to form a shape parallel to that of a DNA helix. "Prime the teleportation device. I'm coming back to base. Sorry your mobile unit got glarked. Don't worry… we'll build a new one."

"Understood, Crull. Teleportation primed and ready in Slark… vlark… glurt… zert…"

With the last of his strength, Mark reached out with trembling fingers for his friend, the musician who clambered so desperately to stand upright.

Leaned up against the broken cryo tube at long last, Mike looked to Markus with a nervous smile. "I'll… be fine…. I see that look you got there Mark... I chose to help you 'till now. Don't feel guil-"

White enveloped the world.

* * *

" _Teleportation complete."_

Silence - for many an agonizing second there was nothing but an empty void. Between the pains of his lungs, there came the pain of his thoughts. A figure of esteem, a gentleman of an upper-class household was not supposed to surrender. Alas, such petty delusions held no meaning now. In the truest fashion of this flawed world, the perpetrator of evil had won, while those of innocence were left behind to pay the price.

Defeated and destroyed, the prodigy took in one final sight. A radiant moon gazed down from the night sky, bathing his disgrace in transcendent lunar rays.

"F-f-for… forgive… m-m… me…."

Used as a pawn from the very beginning, Markus relinquished his struggle, allowing his eyes to close. The dice of fate had been cast.

**To be continued….**


	14. Escape (Celeste)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at long last. The final chapter of Alien Problems has arrived. I hope you've enjoyed the story as a whole so far. I'm very grateful to each and every one of you for taking the time to read. The poll on my ff.net profile has a few more days left before I count the results. You're more than welcome leave a vote if you like.

A little girl held up her fists before an arena of warriors, speeding forth on two short legs to strike with the force of a missile. The sight of the floating coastal cities of her homeland bringing a sense of comfort in this, her most ephemeral of dreams. There was no pain here, no sorrow. Only the deepest of pride shone within her powerfully thumping heart.

A smile, a laugh of aloof confidence, the sight of a familiar woman, a matriarch of darkened curls and regal horns. She beckoned forth, welcoming the child into an embrace of warmth and comfort. No, there was no reason to leave now. If anything, there was peace in this place. Nothing else was of importance.

' _Tendricide, my rightful place amongst the stars. How I have missed you.'_

Yet nothing lasted forever. The finality of mortal existence brought with it the irreversible tides of change, and from those raging waters there came a desire to adapt and survive. The little girl was gone now, naught but a memory within reflective glass.

"Hmph. Didn't think I'd go out like this. Shit… I'd always wanted to burn out with a gorgeous girl in my arms. Whatever. Too late for regrets now. I did my best. Too bad it wasn't worth jack."

A voice echoed through the veil of tranquillity, reaching with outstretched hands to pull her back. Though it was faint, she recognized it. A smooth inflection even for such a primitive tongue as Terran English. A human male, his tone laced with unease. It reminded her of the painful reality.

This was far from the time or place to be dreaming. No, not unless the light of her existence was to flicker out forever. It was an option beyond comprehension. The Tendricidian had been used and cast aside. Such a betrayal demanded repayment.

' _It is not time for you to welcome to embrace of death, Celeste. Wen lo ren shi so yet kai.'_

In a sputter of breath, Miss Luvendass found herself cast headlong into the blaze of sirens and pulsing red light. Sucking in air, her battered, bandaged body screaming in pain, she reached out for the hand before her, brought to stand upon two feet in a wobbly haze.

Mike the Terran held a sad disposition. With little more than a sigh, he dismissed her, looking to the sight of a spinning cube upon the ground. No, not just any spinning cube, either. A Hydron grenade. It buzzed uncontrollably on its axis, its coloured face rapidly pulsing from shade to shade.

" _Implosion in sixty Terran seconds."_

Sixty Terran seconds. Two micros of Tendricidian time. No, it was not enough to attempt disarming such a device. Her thoughts hurrying to reach a desperate solution, Celeste looked to the portable communication device upon her wrist. Perhaps there was one option left. A short press upon the holographic screen brought with it at least a small glimmer of hope.

"The fusion battery within has enough power for three short distance jumps before a recharge is required. If I move with haste there may still be a chance."

Shaking his head, Mike reached down, taking Mister Kane's discarded handgun into his grasp. There he held it, his eyes of peculiar earthling green apparently lost in personal thought.

"…I did all I could. I saw this through 'till the end… so why am I so afraid?"

With a whimper, he brought the gun upward, staring at it intently. "There's no time le-"

"Human," Celeste placed a hand upon Winters' shoulder, turning him around. Tears streamed down his cheeks, staining his features with watery lines. "Place your arms around my waist and embrace me. Quickly. This is our only opportunity."

The Terran shot a glare, hands shuddering as he tossed the armament to the floor. He stalled, hesitant for certain, his fingers stopping in pause a mere fraction of space away from the alien girl's stomach.

"What do you-"

There was no time! Celeste sprung as though she were one of the predatory amphibians of her home world, latching on and pulling Mike against her chest. A sharp sting shot through the expanse of her body as his closeness pressed against her tender wounds, but there was no room for complaint.

"Do not move," she ordered him sternly, flicking one of the buttons upon the readout screen of her wrist mounted communication device. "We are leaving this place… and you are coming with me… regardless of your desire to do so or not."

" _Implosion in twenty Terran seconds."_

A sphere of powerful purple energy burst forth from Celeste's arm, forming into a translucent bubble of watery consistency. Mike struggled in her grasp, holding his breath and writhing for release.

The best she could do to ease the rising panic of his expression was to lean closer within their damp sphere of captivity and squeeze him in comfort.

"Worry not;" she spoke softly, the feeling of the all too familiar substance flooding her lungs, its cold, icy sensation slapping her pain-wracked senses awake, "The energy bubble is perfectly breathable. Now, you must continue to hold on tightly."

Another flick of her wrist and the fluid compressed around them, tighter and tighter in its embrace. Microbes of time pushed onward, and in a single burst of force, the consciousness faded out.

* * *

Miss Luvendass saw raging seas and stormy waters. When her dreamscape cleared, her body was met with that of a feeling of dampness, the cool bite of evening air nipping at her scantily clad body like crustacean pincers.

" _Emergency teleportation completed. Life sign readings, normal."_

* **SPLASH!***

Celeste doubled over, coughing hard to empty her lungs. The sight of a primitive brick wall behind her, scrawled in crudely painted letters of Terran language, providing at least the most basic of respite as she leaned her aching body. Breathing deep, she steadied the flow of air, turning her attention to wringing the water from her snowy locks.

"That was far from a comfortable jump."

Shaking her head like one of those curious four-legged canine creatures of this planet, the curvaceous alien dried herself, stripping away the soggy bandages across her body to examine the damage.

Gory gashes stretched out across her stomach and abdomen, her wider chest area, arms and legs alike covered in grazes, scratches and bruises. She required proper rest, both to heal her body and subdue the screaming urge for another dose of medical stimulant.

"Gakkk... Urggghh..."

The audible cue of her human companion hacking teleportation liquid from his oral cavity drew her attention. He needed help. It seemed he was still in shock from their sudden exit from the ship.

"Breathe deeply, Mike," she instructed, crawling across the dirtied ground in her natural glory, subconsciously pressing her glistening breasts against his back as she held him in support. There, she aided by providing a pattern of breathing to emulate.

"Yes, that is correct," she continued to hold him as the color returned to his face. "Now, try your hardest to regain your composure. We are safe, for the moment."

"What the-" Winters wheezed, slumping against the ground as he scanned the immediate surroundings. "We're still alive…. What crazy alien crap did you pull off this time around?"

She leaned, in placing her wrist-mounted device on show. "My portable communication unit holds the capacity for three short range teleportation bursts. Yes, it may be a primitive form of water based matter transference similar to that of my ancestors, but it saved our lives on this day."

"Thanks," Winters held his thumb upward in the curious gesture she'd observed several times before since her arrival. It appeared to portray some form of gratitude. Most curious indeed!

The bright-haired Terran stumbled to his feet, removing the dampened, ragged garment covering his torso. Wringing it out with his hands, he tossed it within the metallic refuse collection capsule to his side, stopping yet again to look around. With a flex of his well-toned arms, he stalled in silence.

"Where are we?"

To answer his question Celeste pulled up her communicator, giving her chilly behind a wiggle as she stood upright. "According to my holographic readouts we are in an alleyway beside one of your human dwellings. It is called West Drive."

Hearing the name of the abode seemed to peak the Terran's interest. Giving a roll of his eyes, he let out a low, strange sound of amusement. "Well fuck me. We're right out back of my apartment complex. C'mon. Let's get inside and hope nobody sees you."

The human wished to offer both sanctuary and the rite of procreation both at the same time? How bizarre! Her blue cheeks brightening under the revelation, Celeste giggled softly. "I know not why you make reference to a slang term of the reproductive act… but I wish to clarify something."

Moving to stand at his side, she stopped him with a hand upon the shoulder. "You would provide me safety and refuge in your home? Even after I kept you aboard my ship in such a manner?"

Carrying on ahead, Winters stepped around yet another grungy stack of refuse collection cylinders and made his way further in. "Yeah, that's exactly what I plan to do."

Stopping at the end of the long, thin alcove, he waited for the Tendricidian to catch up.

"Look…. You're hurt… and I wanna rest for a while… try and pretend this is just some bad dream. So, no... I'm not just leaving you out here. Not to mention you need some damn clothes. That piece of dental floss across your behind supposed to be panties?"

Celeste looked down in confusion at her sole article of remaining clothing, more a makeshift bandage than anything else. "I could remove it if you are displeased, Mike…"

"Na," he refused with a seemingly teasing chuckle, "I think I'm good for now."

Following his lead, Celeste pressed a finger upon her piece of tech. A low hum sounded, twisting the light around her until she vanished with a low crackle of electrical energy. She couldn't risk being seen by another member of the species.

"Continue onward. I shall follow, Mike."

* * *

The sight of real Earth living quarters was a wondrous thing to behold, enough at least to bury the chaotic thoughts of the earlier evening for a miton or two of time. Like a mesmerized child, Celeste examined everything with wonderment, eventually following Mike's direction to rest upon some kind of soft seating.

"How nice. This provides comfort for my aching body. Please tell me what you call this furnishing, Terran."

Laying her head back against the lovely construct, the alien girl sighed, allowing the weight of her thoughts to wash away.

"It's called a couch. It's made of leather." The sight of Mike returning from across the room with a transparent container filled with golden liquid was equally interesting. "Put up your feet and rest. If there's anything you need I'll be here. Well... I plan to lay down in my room and unfuck my head…"

Yet another bout of confusing terminology. Try as she might, there was no way to understand such unorthodox use of Terran English.

"But," Celeste paused, "Nobody has attempted to perform the reproductive act upon your cranium."

"What the- It's a figure of speech. Don't overthink it too much."

"It is terribly hard to understand!"

Intent on finding the underlying cause of such raging confusion, she pressed onward.

"For somebody to 'fuck' your head, as you call it, it would require penetration to take place. Since the reproductive physiology of our two species is so similar, I can safely assume that such an act would require another male to place his reproductive organ within your ear canal… and then there is the wildly variable factor of genitalia size. Such concept is ve-"

The human held up his hands in a manner that suggested surrender, "Hey… Celeste? Stop, okay? Please just… stop. We lost Momo and Mark an hour ago and now you're sat on my leather talking about dicks…"

Ingesting the golden liquid within the container he held, Mike turned and made his way toward an open archway at the back of the room. "The sun's coming up… I'm gonna try clawing in an hour's sleep. Why not do the same?"

"A sound suggestion. My species are nocturnal, so it would benefit me to hibernate. Before you retire however, Mike."

The night had been long, bloody and scarring. No amount of desperate attempts at denial could change that. Climbing up from the comfort of the couch, Celeste joined Mike by the doorway of what she assumed was his sleeping space.

"I wish to convey my thanks... I am grateful for you attempting to help when Crull had me in his grasp."

Leaning in, one of her dried, bloodied hands resting upon the warmth of his bare shoulder, Luvendass pursed her lips and placed them upon Mike's membranes. She was unsure how long to retain this union, but a jolt of surprise set her vascular organ alight. How sweet he tasted!

"Mmmmmm..."

Winters seemed to be returning their bond, their 'kiss' as the Terran's called it in their romantic literature. In fact, he did so with a great deal of energy, his tongue licking against her lips before retreating. Nodding weakly, the tips of his left fingers lightly touched against her left horn.

"I think I owe you more, Celeste. If you hadn't given me that shot earlier I wouldn't even be standing right now. I should thank YOU for that."

Pausing, the human male took a shaky step back, vanishing inside the room behind and closing a primitive wooden door.

"Whatever happens from here on out," he called from behind the makeshift screen of sorts, "We're in this together… even if that means I have you living on my couch for the next year or something."

Despite current circumstances, such an idea was not one that brought with it a particular feeling of dislike. In fact, the thought of experiencing genuine Earth living up close and personal brought excitement.

"Please be sure to rest yourself well, Terran. I will do my best to ensure that my presence is not a burden upon your usual living arrangement."

There came no discernible reply. Alone in the darkness of Mike's house, the bothersome solar rays of Earth sunrise blocked out by fabric sheets of some kind, Celeste returned to the couch. This material, leather, felt delightful against ones skin.

Stretching out her long, sensual legs, she closed her eyes, trying her best to keep still. "Hopefully the delayed reaction of the healing stimulants will activate shortly and bind my wounds."

"How bothersome."

Her lips turned in a frown of disdain. "My ship has no doubt sitting at the bottom of the ocean… and that psychotic Vorax still remains at large. Once I have recovered sufficiently I must construct a plan to find out what he is doing here on Terra."

"Until then," the Tendricidian girl smiled with fragility, thankful at least for the small things upon which her continued existence hinged. "I will use this opportunity to document Earthling culture in its fullest… and engage in further social interaction with Mike."

It seemed as though after many long weeks, the beginning of this fractured series of events was coming to its close. Mister Kane had fallen. Both he and Momo were in the hands of Crull.

She sighed.

"This was most certainly one of the more complex missions I have been given."

' _I am a woman of warror origin. Yet Crull and his underlings think of me to be no better than some expendable mercenary. This is no longer a matter of credits and payment. My name is Celeste of Clan Luvendass… and I am not to be used and manipulated.'_

* * *

Many Earth hours had withered away, bringing not a microbe of solace in light of all that had happened. There was simply too much to warrant comprehension. In the time since her arrival at the exotic West Drive, Miss Luvendass had seen Winters vanish into another room and re-emerge cleaned and refreshed, but he'd not engaged in conversation, simply choosing to close himself away again.

Unable to distract her overloading thoughts, her eyes to flickered open. She couldn't bring herself to look away from Mike's door, for some reason. A sound, almost so faint her ears struggled in its perception, demanded investigation.

Nodding to herself, Luvendass sprung up from the couch, making her way, quietly and barefoot still, toward her Earthling companion's room. Giving a faint tap of the fingertips, she waited.

"Mike? Human? Are you-"

The doorway swung open, and there he stood, eyes red and sore, steams upon steams of raging water spilling down his cheeks.

Without so much a syllable, he threw his arms around Celeste's middle, resting his head, uncaring of the implications, upon her chest.

"I can't stop thinking about all this," he whispered, the warmth and dampness of his tears trickling down her ample bosom. "What happens now? That… _freak_ is on the loose somewhere…. He's got Mark and Momo and I- I…"

His Fingers squeezed tightly around her back. The Terran looked to be forcing his emotions into lockdown. Backing away to sit upon the edge of simple if not wide bed, he refused to remove his sight from the floor.

"What the Hell do we do now, Celeste? There's so much going through my head and no matter what I try it won't go away! Why'd you save me? Why'd you keep me around like you did? I need some fucking answers before I lose it…."

Stepping inside the most private part of his abode, the room within which he slept, she sat down at his side. He looked lost and confused, in desperate need of guidance. In such a situation as this perhaps, it was best to discard pride and speak from within.

" _Zen rot ii sett lo shen kei ran sai. Lo ten vay…"_

Words to show her innermost compassion, words of her people to describe the fullest extent of her hidden softness. Not in the Terran's native tongue, however. No, to admit the truth now in a way he understood would be far too soon.

"Don't ask me why," Mike paused to wipe his eyes, "But the way you speak in your language feels… soothing. I'm not sure if I can explain it but… I like it."

Celeste's wrist beeped, her communicator surging in overload. A strange energy reading? No. Wait! It was that unspeakable blue aura again, the one she had seen in their previous encounter. It bore no matching signature to anything she'd seen before.

Yet something about it, especially as it pooled from Mike's body, caused Celeste to feel a heavy, passionate thump within her core.

Smiling, a rogue tear leaking from one of his strangely hypnotic eyes of green, Mike reached out to sweep Celeste into a hug. She didn't refuse. No, she didn't wish to turn away his human affection.

"You keep on protecting me even though you don't have to. You're a real friend, Celeste. Would you mind if I ask you something?"

"What is it that you wish to know?"

He reached out, an innocence within his gaze. "Say something else to me in your language. If you don't mind…."

She would most certainly oblige. In fact, she was happy to.

" _Tay yousen soot yet savaseraan. Ii zo nelt sii._ You are also one whom I would hapilly consider an ally, Mike. As you said earlier today… from this moment onward, we should remain together... for our safety."

His expression brightened the tiniest fraction. "You wanna stick together, yeah?"

"That is my desire, yes. However," she giggled, unable to stop the redness from overtaking her cheeks. "Custom upon my planet of Tendricide dictates we must seal such an agreement with a mark of mutual compassion."

"What kind of mark are we talking about here?"

One that she would take great pleasure in imparting. "This should suffice. Remain still."

Shuffling close, Celeste brushed her horn against Mike's cheek. Poised and ready, she slithered like a reptilian, nipping her teeth against his lips as to give note of her intentions. Much to her contentment, there was no refusal. She was met with equal vigor as two pairs of lips, one earthling and one tendricidian, locked within the low light of the room.

Finally edging back, the alien girl smiled with approval. "What is wrong? You seem to be hot to the touch, Mike."

He exhaled strongly, shaking his head. "Girl's on your planet always kiss to show friendship and that kinda thing? It's… wow!"

"No," she smiled at her own admission, giving a wink to tease her target, "I simply desired an excuse to repeat our earlier connection. I am contented now. Regardless, I do find such a thing fitting to represent our unity. Your taste is... pleasing to me."

"No kidding there," Mike agreed with a smooth chuckle, "Same to you."

A pact had been formed, and from such unity would come strength. There was no way Celeste would back down. No. Never.

' _Beware, Crull. This is far from over. You may think me dead, and yourself the victor…. Yet it is only the beginning. Wherever you may be hiding within this city, I will find you. No matter what you intend to do… you will not be allowed to succeed.'_

* * *

A darkened room – a forgotten corner of a vibrant community, long since left to crumble with the passage of time.

Punching four massive fists together, Crull watched and waited with anticipation, six ocular organs honed in upon the sight of a fragile organic form within a pod. Turning, he addressed the floating robotic device at his side. The good doctor was here to detail his progress.

"Alright Drell. We've got the Nekorian and this Terran here. They should make great additions to our database. Now we just need subjects to copy over. You picked up anymore humans since I got back?"

Drell's portable orb buzzed away, taking a beeline down a long, thin corridor filled with storage units. Human bodies of all shapes and sizes, they bobbed up and down, suspended in glass, wires and liquids of differing colors. Perfect, such simple genetic diversity worked wonders for manipulation.

"This one here... _Specimen Beta Three_... is absolutely perfect."

Drell stopped at the side of one of the smaller containers, its thin greenish light cutting through the surrounding blackness. A human female, slender and delicate, veins and arteries alike pumped full with mutigenic fluid.

"You sure about this Drell, or is this one of you damned vanity games? Look at her. She's tiny, weak. What rightful purpose could she serve to this project? I got a feelin' you're only interested in this one for some kinda perverse pleasure. What do you see in these repulsive Terran females? Shrak it! They all look the exact same!"

"Examine at her readouts on the constuct, Crull," the mechanical instructed, bringing up a holographic screen for aid. "Do you see it? The baseline within her DNA? She holds a genetic predisposition for violent, sociopathic behavior. If we could harness that… she would make an excellent field unit."

"Na, not this one. We need strength, not finesse. Liquidate her."

The optical lens at the front of Drell's unit flashed red. He disapproved?

"I'm afraid not. In fact, if you don't want her… I already have plans for a subject so beautiful. Ohhhh I can feel it. She will be the progenitor for something excellent… a true, beautiful masterpie-"

"That's not my concern. We need a collective of soldiers, not a passion project."

Shrugging off the doctor and his deranged visions of art, Crull flashed a look at the name upon the repulsive female's storage unit. "We've bought ourselves some time by killing off Luvendass and that annoying pet Terran of hers… but we gotta step things up now."

Snapping two sets of his fingers, Crull pulled a wide map from the nothingness. It was safe to say that the layout of galactic territories continued to change hands with almost every cycle.

"You Zargon's are the best when it comes to genetic engineering. So, show me results. Do what you want with that disgusting little female. By the Red Moon, impregnate it if you want… just be sure we're on track. Phase two begins today."

Drell paused from amidst his insane rambling. "So we're pushing forward, eh?"

"That's right. Activate each and every one of these biotanks. Melt down anybody unsuitable beyond initial testing. Project Supernova starts right here, right now."

Scoffing in annoyance, he took one final look at the Terran floating in the fluid. What an abhorrent creature it was, too. Not only that, but why did these humans bare such freakish names and appearances?

Red hair, crimson eyes, and a seemingly angry frown even when unconcious. No matter how much he looked at her, the revulsion never ceased. If Drell weren't such a valued member of this venture, there would've been no second thoughts in stopping the girl's life support at this very moment.

" _Audrey Belrose_ … What's wrong with a tradional name like Vars Phaselock? These humans…. I'll never understand them."

Turning his back, Crull The Destroyer walked away. "I can't wait for the day we can raze this whole city to the ground."

**End?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there you have it. Alien Problems has reached its end. I'd really like to hear what you thought considering this is the very last chapter. As always, feedback is both welcome and appreciated. Keep on supporting the official releases of Huniepop and Huniecam Studio. I'll see you in the next project!


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